


Speak Easy

by hadespoppy



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Dorks in Love, Fluff, M/M, Spoilers for the 7th Palace
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2018-12-24 09:12:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12009621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hadespoppy/pseuds/hadespoppy
Summary: Yongen's steadily declining economy and Shibuya's increasingly unpopular legislation force the delegates to formulate a union between the sons of the most powerful government leaders of each region to establish a symbiotic relationship between Yongen and Shibuya to remedy the situation.Hence, an arranged marriage AU between our favorite crime boys.





	1. The Proposal

**Author's Note:**

> Just a few things to consider before venturing into this story! Spoiler warning for game sequences from the 7th Palace onward.
> 
> The time period and setting is sort of futuristic where Shibuya and Yongen are independent regions. I wanted to give this a modern fairy-tale like feel. Futaba is Sojiro’s biological daughter. He was married to Wakaba Ishiki but she died in a “strange accident” similar to the game canon. Akechi also grew up with Shido in his home although he was forced to keep his mother’s surname to remind him that he’s an illegitimate child. Akira and Akechi are both in their early twenties, fresh out of college and brand new to the work force. 
> 
> I’m anticipating increasing the rating later on but until then, this story will keep the current rating. Hope you enjoy this arranged marriage AU that no one asked for :P But I personally really like this AU.

“You’re selling me off to some adopted street trash?!” Akechi exclaims. He hates not being able to control his emotions but damn does it feel good to spit fire at his sorry excuse of a father. The way that Shido nonchalantly reclines in his office chair, lazily leaning his chin against his knuckle infuriates him even more. It’s as if he hadn’t just made an executive decision about his son’s future with all of the most important leaders of Shibuya.

“His adoptive father is the head of the Yongen District,” Shido replies with a hidden, condescending smirk that’s saturated in his tone. “I wouldn’t arrange for your marriage to just anyone. Besides, men are your preference, are they not? And since I’ve heard that you’ve had trouble finding a good match, this arrangement will be good for you.” 

“How thoughtful,” Akechi muses back lowly, just shy of a murmur.

“Rest assured, this arrangement is far from some ploy to rid of you. You have a purpose to fulfill and I don’t anticipate that you will disappoint me.”

Akechi bites down on his tongue, harder than really necessary but he doesn’t trust his voice right now, not when his lips are trembling to keep acid words from spilling out. His father has a habit of lashing out physically when his verbal communication are overpowered by his anger. Growing up, Akechi has learned time and time again that pushing him to that limit just isn’t the brightest of ideas.

He lets his thoughts wander to the notion of marriage instead and decides that it’s absolutely ridiculous. This is the best that his father’s entire team of delegates can muster up in all of their countless meetings to gain the support of the Yongen District? It’s an embarrassing display of their capabilities to say the least. Sure, the fact that Shibuya has finally been able to strike a deal with the proudly independent district of Yongen is worthy of significant praise. Still, Akechi just can’t look past the sheer vexation inside him to bother acknowledging the accomplishment.

“When will I meet him?” He asks.

“The end of this week,” Shido says after taking a quick glance at the calendar on his phone.

“Three days from now,” Akechi mumbles flatly. Although he’s heard of this Akira Kurusu, he’s never once met him in person. Everything he knows about him are from the quick spreading rumors that echo in the halls of the government district buildings. He’s the only son of the late Kurusu pair, humble café shop owners and Nagano natives. Both who met their untimely end during a freak train accident on their trip to Tokyo to visit their son. He recently graduated from the University of Tokyo and currently works as a social researcher there. Shortly following his parents’ deaths three years ago, he was adopted by the Saint of Yongen, Sojiro Sakura, and now lives at his estate. Apparently, Sakura had been good friends with the Kurusu couple. Aside from these basic facts, Akechi knows nothing more about the young man who’s about to be his… fiancé? Even the thought of the word feels foreign and wrong to him.

“It’s been arranged for us to visit Sakura-san’s home in Yongen. My advisors feel it would be beneficial for the two of you to meet before we enact any official ceremonies or legal paperwork. The week following this meeting with him will be a congressional gathering to officially announce the union between Yongen and Shibuya as well as the engagement party for you two.”

“That's quite efficient,” Akechi comments dryly.

“Of course,” Shido nods. “We have the community coordination team at Okumura Foods to thank for the superb planning. It’s also been mutually agreed by the team that you’ll be moving to the Sakura estate with your new husband-to-be. Now, go. I do think you have a lot to prepare for.”

At his father's last comment, Akechi fights with all his being to keep his mouth closed and takes his leave, slamming his father’s office door harder than necessary on his way out.

\- - -

“I’m sorry, Akira,” Sojiro says somberly. “There’s an arrangement for you to meet him and it’s been scheduled for the end of this week. But if you feel that this Akechi boy is not to your liking, you don’t have to go through with this. We can find another way. I can let the delegates from Shibuya know that there’s been a change of plans.”

“But this is the best for Yongen,” Akira replies, somewhere between a comment and an inquiry.

The older man hesitates to answer. “Yes,” Sojiro eventually sighs, “But your happiness is much more important me to than this district. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have even entertained the idea when the delegates put the offer on the table.”

“He’s about my age, isn’t he?” Akira wonders. “I don’t think it’ll be so bad.”

Sojiro looks at him with rather apologetic eyes and it makes Akira feel somewhat uncomfortable to see him like this. Sojiro has done so much for him after his parents’ accident that he can’t stand to see anything but happiness on his adoptive father’s face.

“He is very well loved by the people of Shibuya,” Sojiro admits. “Especially with people your age. At any rate, if you’re absolutely sure, we’ll have the meeting and see how that goes. I’m going to start making dinner. How does curry sound for tonight?”

“Sounds good to me,” Akira nods. “Do you need any help? Or is Akasaki-san helping you?”

“She’s taking tonight and tomorrow off to visit family, remember? But no, I’ll be fine.” Sojiro makes his way towards the door to his room. “I’m sure you’ll want time alone to think about all of this anyway. I’ll call you guys down when dinner’s ready.” He walks out, closing the door gently behind him.

Akira sighs and tries to turn his attention back to his computer screen which is littered with overlapping windows, data sheets from his research, his recent chat log with Ryuji, an internet page opened to a rather shady looking shopping site, and a documentary video on Tokyo’s best sushi places at the bottom corner of his screen. The last one is for Morgana who’s been watching from his favorite spot on Akira’s desk before Sojiro stepped in.

“Are you really okay with getting married?” Morgana asks, his voice dripping with nothing but skepticism. “Especially to someone you don’t even know.”

Before Akira can even answer, another chat log pops up on his screen. It’s Futaba.

 **FUTABA** : AN ARRANGED MARRIAGE?! I know that they’ve been pretty popular lately but what is Dad thinking??

“Is messaging you really necessary?” Morgana sighs. “She’s literally just down the hallway right now.”

Akira chuckles and shakes his head, unfazed by the fact that his sister has her eyes and ears all over the estate by now. He takes the keyboard and replies.

 **AKIRA** : This is suppose to benefit both Shibuya and Yongen. And they’ve been trying to get this dealing going for a while.

 **FUTABA** : Why are you being so diplomatic about this?! This is your future! At least they got your preference right but STILL!

 **FUTABA** : You’ll be marrying Goro Akechi, the famous Detective Prince of Tokyo. He’s also that scary looking Shido guy’s son. I mean… he’s got looks and he’s super popular but you don’t know him at all!

 **FUTABA** : How are you going to be happy with someone you don’t know?!

 **AKIRA** : I can get to know him?

 **FUTABA** : I guess… :U But this isn’t romantic like the prime time anime at all! Maybe, if this meeting doesn’t go well, we can always take a trip into the Metaverse. I already have all the possible delegates’ names. We’ll just have to narrow the list down and figure out their keywords. And it’s been a while since the whole gang’s got together.

“She’s not wrong,” Morgana admits. “But we should probably still wait and see how your meeting with Akechi plays out. You're right that it might not be so bad...”

Akira nods in agreement and takes his mouse to open up a new webpage. He types “Goro Akechi” in the search bar and the digital universal responds with countless photos from public appearances, fan-made sites, and news articles regarding this young man. He’s definitely famous to garner such a high profile on the web. Handsome is another justified word to describe him. He's the illegitimate son of the famed politician Masayoshi Shido who has been raised by his graciously honorable and responsible father. Or at least that's how the media depicts him. Akira leans back into his chair and hums something tuneless, truly unsure of how he feels about what he just agreed to.

\- - -

The end of the week arrives quicker than expected, drawing out sudden anxiousness from Akira like the doorbell that cuts into the peaceful silence of their home.

“That must be Shido-san and his son,” Sojiro announces and rushes to the front door.

Akira abandons his book on the coffee table and stands up from his seat on the couch, awaiting to greet their guests. His eyes avert quickly to the pot of plastic flowers on top of the tallest bookshelf in the living room. Although he can’t see it, he knows that the tiny lens of Futaba’s living room camera is hiding itself amongst the artificial flora, staring straight at him, focusing, following, zooming where necessary. He can almost hear Futaba starting up her microphones this instant. He’s going to want to be careful with what he says here this morning, knowing his sister’s habits and the fact that Morgana is making himself comfortable on her computer desk, ready to watch this awkward meeting unfold.

“Akira,” Sojiro’s voice snatches his attention.

Akira turns and sees Sojiro approaching him with the strong looking man he recognizes from public appearances as Masayoshi Shido. Beside the politician is a younger man, about his age, chestnut hair his down to his chin, and intelligent red eyes. He’s smartly dressed in a white collared button up underneath a blue pattern sweater vest and neat tan slacks. Akira almost curses out loud because Futaba was right. Akechi is pretty damn easy on the eyes.

“Shido-san,” Sojiro says, “Please meet my son, Akira Kurusu.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Shido-san,” Akira says and forms the best formal bow he could before straightening up again to steal another look at Akechi. Those red eyes meet his when he’s back to his normal posture and he can’t help but admire how intense they are.

“Kurusu-kun,” Shido says and gestures a hand towards the young man standing next to him. “Please let me formally introduce you to my son, Goro Akechi.”

“Hello,” Akechi greets, his voice is silk soft and incredibly polite. He’s quite tall, just about Akira’s own height or maybe an inch taller. If this is his future husband, Akira thinks, marriage, from a superficial standpoint, really doesn’t seem so bad. It’s just a matter of getting to know him now and Akira is quite up for the challenge. “It’s very nice to finally meet you, Kurusu-kun.”

“Likewise,” Akira answers.

“Truly,” Shido begins. “I must say that I am very proud of the both you. Your commitment to the future of Shibuya and Yongen is absolutely commendable and will be a splendid example for the youth of this nation. Isn’t that right, Sakura-san?”

“Indeed,” Sojiro replies. Akira is sure he’s the only one who can catch the flatness in his tone. 

“Sakura-san,” Shido says. “Why don’t we leave these two some privacy to get to know each other?”

“Of course,” Sojiro replies smoothly with a smile that Akira knows is forced. “Please make yourself at home, Akechi-kun. If there’s anything you need, Akira will accommodate for you.”

With that, Akira watches Sojiro leads Shido away towards his office before turning back to Akechi. Pure awkwardness hangs in the silent air, which is to be expected of standing in the room with a complete stranger who’s technically his fiancé. Akira’s ears feel hot and his chest feels like he’s just finished running laps with Ryuji. Before him, Akechi’s posture can be perceive as relatively lax. He’s leaning on one foot with his shoulders semi-slouch but with his right arm drape across his belly to grip his left elbow, it communicates defensiveness and nervousness too. He can start by remedying that.

“So,” Akira begins. “How do you feel about all of this?” Might as well get the basics out of the way first.

“Conflicted," Akechi replies. "I’m glad that you’re not some hideous fiend, quite the opposite in fact. But I’ve never anticipated being arranged to be married off to someone, if I’m honest.”

Akira isn’t sure if he’s supposed to feel flattered or offended at Akechi’s response. It sounds like a compliment in a weird, round-about way. 

“How much do you know about the purpose of our engagement?” Akira continues.

“It’s for securing the future of Shibuya and Yongen, is it not?” Akechi asks. “Or has Sakura-san told you something different?”

“No,” Akira shakes his head. “The story I heard is the same. Our marriage will solidify a union between our regions which will allow Yongen to actively support your father’s party in Shibuya’s executive branch. In exchange, Okumura has promised to help with the local economy for Yongen. It’s a deal that has been the works for years, or so I’ve heard.”

“You’ve certainly hit the nail on the head with that one,” Akechi says. “I suppose when you simplify everything like that, this arrangement between us does make a lot of sense. Although, an arranged marriage is quite an archaic practice, don’t you think?”

“It’s been much more common in recent times for the children of the political and business world.”

“Lucky us then,” Akechi smiles at his own comment but Akira can’t help but sense toxic tones of resentment in his soft voice. “Have you wondered if there had been other options on the table when our fathers talked with their teams?”

“I’m sure they had been brought up at some point.”

“But this was their final answer?” Akechi gestures between the two of them.

“My father mentioned that they wanted something public enough to rouse the citizens and permanent enough to ensure that this new relationship between Yongen and Shibuya will last,” Akira offers. He sees Akechi’s brows wrinkle, as if piqued by his answer, like it isn’t enough or isn’t what he’s looking for—hoping for. “Can I get you anything to drink?” He asks, trying to derail the conversation towards something a little more neutral, a little more safe.

“Sure,” Akechi agrees, much to Akira’s relief.

“Would you like tea or coffee? Or would you like some alcohol instead?” He’s half joking at the last comment.

“No thank you to the alcohol. But I can never pass up a nice cup of coffee.”

“You don’t drink?”

“No, I don’t like anything that inhibits my thinking abilities.”

“I see.” Akira makes a mental note of that, feeling a sense of vindication from learning one substantial thing about this young man today. He makes another one to give Futaba the “I-told-you-so” speech about being able to get to know Goro Akechi and that this whole arrangement isn’t going to be as bad as she thinks it might.

Akira gestures for the other young man to follow him towards the kitchen where he pulls out a bar stool for him to sit at the counter. Akechi settles into his seat while Akira confidently gathers all the tools for making the right cup of coffee. His parents had taught him the basics. Sojiro had polished his skills.

“I had heard that Sakura-san is quite the barista,” Akechi says.

“He is,” Akira confirms. “It’s one of his hobbies. Do you want cream or sugar?”

“Just one cube of sugar, please, no cream. Thank you.”

Akira jots down another secret note in his mind and titles it “Coffee, Goro Akechi’s Way.” That’s a second point for himself today and he smiles.

They fall silent. Akira focuses on pouring the hot water into the coffee syphon in careful spirals. He can feel Akechi waiting, watching him carefully. “So you’re a celebrity detective?”

“Rookie detective,” Akechi corrects him with a light laugh. “I might have graduated university early and started my career in the police workforce but I’m nowhere near a celebrity.”

“You’re on live television more often than most government officials I know,” Akira teases.

“Yes, well, I have my father’s public relations team to thank for that. They like having me keep up my image in the public. It helps keeps Shibuya’s eyes on me and by extension my father and his campaigns. Mostly, it’s a way for them to garner the support of the youth. What about you? I’ve heard that you recently got a job in a research department at the University of Tokyo where you graduated.”

“It’s a social research position, yeah,” Akira confirms. He’s surprised that Akechi knows that about him. Though, the bewilderment only lasts until he remembers typing Akechi’s name into the internet search bar. For someone as acclaimed as Akechi, Akira doubts that he didn't do some homework of his own. “I’ve always been interested in social data and I took a liking to research when I was at university.”

“Do you want to keep working at your current research group?”

“For now, yeah. Here,” Akira sets a cup of freshly brew coffee before Akechi, specially made with the finest beans Sojiro recently bought home, only one cube of sugar, and no cream. “It’s something that I’ve thought about for a while and decided it was the best path for me.”

“A detective and a social researcher,” Akechi muses as he brings the cup of hot coffee up to his nose to breathe in the aromatic steam. “Quite a couple we make, don’t we? We sound like an undercover crime-fighting pair. Maybe together we can reform this world.” Akechi proposes the idea with a playful chuckle in his voice and a slight raise in his eyebrow.

“Maybe this arrangement isn’t so bad,” Akira treads, harboring hope that Akechi isn't as opposed to their marriage as he perceives.

“Perhaps not,” Akechi sighs. He takes a cautious sip of the coffee and his eyes widen in response. “Especially when I’m to be with someone who can make coffee this good.”

“You like it?” Akira smiles.

“Yes, this is quite possibly one of the best cup of coffee I’ve ever had.” Akechi takes another eager sip.

Akira smiles, fills his chest with a breath full of pride, and assigns another point to himself. That’s three get-to-know-Akechi points. As far as first dates go, Akira considers this a relative success.

\- - -

Akira listens in quiet amusement at the fuss his friends are making over his sudden engagement when they all know he’s been single for over two years. Surveying across the dinner table, he can see how vastly different their reactions are to the news aside from the initial shock. Ryuji is flatly weirded out, speechless, but Akira is sure it’s mostly because marriage is something far beyond his radar at the moment. Ann is worried, complaining about how it isn’t fair that Akira isn’t given the chance at true love. Haru echoes her sentiment with more personal anecdotes in contrast to Ann’s ideologies. Makoto considers the rationales behind his to-be marriage and agrees that it’s a pragmatic decision from the delegates, which makes Ann and Haru pull a face. Yusuke is surprisingly supportive, stating that his decision is “a noble sacrifice that echoes the beauty of his selfless heart” and Akira mostly of understands what he means.

Tonight, they’re all dressed in their semi-formal kimonos for the occasion at the request of the Okumura family associates who had coordinated this extravagant dinner for a rather simple announcement. Akira wonders if the attire requirement for the evening had been intentional on the planners’ part because the view around the 45th floor ballroom of the Ritz Carlton in Tokyo is quite breathtaking. The women are dressed in brilliant, colorful, floral fabrics and the men are garbed in high quality shades of expensive muted colors. Every guest looks like a stunning contrast to the modern, Western shapes of the ballroom’s interior design.

Ann, Makoto, Haru, and even Futaba fit right into the image of the party with their respective family crests pinned to collar of their kimonos. While Yusuke isn’t associated with any affiliated bloodlines, the young artist looks so natural in his traditional wear, his entire being permeating the essence of what is deemed classically Japanese. In contrast to the rest of the party, Ryuji, with his unnaturally blond bleached hair and naturally slouching posture, appears like he’s ready to tear off his kimono to reveal he’s been wearing his usual T-shirt and shorts underneath this whole time.

“I guess you’re really lucky that he’s around your age,” Futuba muses as she sneaks a piece of ahi tuna into the oversized purse on her lap which is conveniently the right size for a cat. Akira smirks. And Morgana had thought they would leave him at home alone tonight while they all got to go out to celebrate his engagement. “And he’s good looking at that, like I’ve said before.”

“Futaba-chan,” Makoto sighs.

“What?”

“She does have a point,” Yusuke adds. “While I haven’t met him in person myself, the photos and videos of him that I’ve seen have made quite the impression. This Goro Akechi individual is quite the Adonis.”

“Why don’t you marry him instead, Yusuke?” Ryuji teases.

“I don’t want to marry someone I don’t know.”

“Akira has to,” Ann says quietly. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

Akira holds back a very heavy sigh. He’s been asked so many times tonight alone that a part of him just wants the wedding ceremony to be said and done, the papers to be signed and filed away so there aren’t any more pointless interrogations. Because really, if he refuses, what will become of Yongen? The economy will continue to fall without Shibuya’s support. Sojiro will be seen as a failure and his leadership questioned. There’s also the eminent knocks of protests threatening to rap at their doorstops if things don’t get better soon for the citizens of Yongen. None of that is good for anyone.

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’ve met him. I still don’t know him but he’s not… bad.”

“But, you should be marrying for love, not for political reasons,” Ann says thoughtfully.

“You’re forgetting that we’re living a world dominated by politics and business,” Makoto says. “We’re children of powerful families who may not have the luxury of marrying for love like most people.”

“It’s fortunate that Akechi-kun is a rather decent person, though,” Haru says. “At least, it seems that way from the few times that I’ve met him at my father’s functions. You know him somewhat, don’t you Mako-chan?”

“Hardly,” Makoto admits. “He’s worked with my sister in the past but I’ve only ever spoken to him when I brought things that she needed to her office.”

“At any rate,” Morgana peaks his head out from Futaba’s bag. “If things go south, we always have the Metaverse but we can’t act brashly. The state of Yongen is on the table, remember? For now, the best thing we can do is support Akira. He’s about to get married after all and that’s a pretty big deal for humans, isn’t is?”

“Didn’t we say to stay in the bag?” Ryuji grumbles.

“Dad alert,” she warns immediately after he had spoke. She’s pushing Morgana’s head back into the bag while she nods towards the front of the ballroom where the massive doorways are heavily patrolled by security.

Akira turns and sees Sojiro approaching their direction with Shido and Akechi right beside him. Akira’s eyes are immediately drawn to Akechi as he leaves his seat to greet them. There’s a weird tightness in his chest like his heart suddenly loss its natural rhythm. The young detective has his long, chestnut bangs neatly brushed to the side, drawing generous attention to his brilliant red eyes. He’s dressed similarly to Akira, except in a light gray kimono with cream colored hakama pants instead of black and dark gray. Akira almost curses out load because Futaba and Yusuke are absolutely right. Akechi is just too damn easy on the eyes, especially when he’s all dressed up like this.

“Good evening,” Akira greets, a little more breathless than he intends.

“Good evening, Kurusu-kun,” Shido returns. “It’s good to see you again. Apologies for the tardiness on our part. There was a bit of a paparazzi issue on the way here. Somehow, word got out about Akechi’s appearance here tonight and every media outlet is trying to get a piece. At any rate, would you mind showing Akechi to his seat?”

“Yes, of course,” Akira agrees.

“Thank you,” Shido nods to him before turning his attention back to Sojiro. “Let’s leave the youngsters to their business, Sakura-san. I do believe Okumura-san is waiting for us.”

Akira watches his father lead Shido away towards a table at the end of the ballroom where Haru’s father is waving eagerly for them to join him.

“Have you eaten?” Akira asks Akechi.

“I could eat,” Akechi replies with a bit of hesitance. “Should, actually. With all the preparation today and the fiasco on the way here I almost forgot that I haven’t eaten since morning.”

“They’ve just started severing appetizers so you haven’t missed anything yet. Our table’s this way.”

The young detective answers him with a slight nod and Akira places a gentle hand on the small of Akechi’s back to guide him to their destination. Uncertainty takes up residency in his chest again as he does so, noting the quick, peripheral glance he earns from Akechi at the gesture. It’s the first time that he’s actually touched Akechi since they’ve met, he realizes. There’s ambiguity in Akechi’s expression at his touch that Akira can’t quite decipher. Should he have hold out his arm instead? He isn’t a girl, Akira rationalizes and decides not to extend the offer. Still, the lack of withdrawal in Akechi’s body language gives Akira enough encouragement to steady his hand against Akechi’s back as they make their way to their assigned table.

He’s met with six pairs of curious and questioning eyes when they arrive.

“Everyone,” Akira announces, “Please meet Goro Akechi.”

All of his friends offer their own greetings in almost synchronized timing, creating a cacophony of “hellos.”

“It’s very nice to meet you all,” Akechi bows once for all of them. The young detective lets out a nervous laugh and Akira figures he’s overwhelmed from meeting so many new people at one time.

“Here,” Akira gestures to the untouched seat next to his and pulls out the chair for him.

“I’m not a lady,” Akechi replies, slight amusement in his voice. “But thank you.” He settles in and examines around the table while Akira seats back into his own chair beside him. Good thing he didn’t offer his arm earlier, then.

“Welcome, Akechi-kun,” Makoto begins. “It’s good to see you again. I’m sure you’ve already met Futaba-chan and Haru. This is Ann Takamaki, Ryuji Sakamoto, and Yusuke Kitagawa. They’re all good friends of ours.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” Akechi replies. “I probably won’t be able to remember everyone’s names right off the bat so please forgive me in advance. I have met Okumura-san, though, a couple of times before since our fathers works closely with each other.”

“Yes,” Haru confirms, the softness of her voice in completion with Akechi’s. “I was just telling everyone that we’ve seen each other at my father’s functions.”

“Don’t worry about remembering our names, though,” Ann reassures with her signature sweetness, as if she wasn’t just adamantly questioning their eventual marriage just moments earlier. “We’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other, I’m sure.”

"You have to tell us all about your adventures as a celebrity!" Futaba says excitedly. "It's not every day that we get to be in the presence of the Detective Prince of Tokyo. And to think you're going to be my brother-in-law soon. I guess I have the rest of forever to ask you everything I want to know about your high profile lifestyle."

"Well I—that's—" Akechi stutters.

“Let me get you something to eat first,” Akira interjects and he sees Makoto and Ann whispering something frantically to a rather confused Futaba. “What would you like?”

“Anything that isn’t spicy, please,” Akechi answers after taking a quick look at the selection of small bite-sized appetizers spread out on the center of the table.

“You can’t handle spicy food?”

“N-no,” Akechi replies and Akira can swear that he’s blushing and it’s kind of adorable. 

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Akira says with a bit of a chuckle that he can’t help. “Although it’s too bad that you probably can’t enjoy a good curry. Sojiro makes a really good spicy chicken cutlet curry.”

“I do enjoy curry if it’s mild.”

"Oh, don't you worry," Futaba says. "Sojiro is going to make curry that you're going to love no matter how spicy!"

Akechi lets out a nervous laugh in her direction as Akira piles all the non-spicy food onto Akechi's plate. Crispy and soft gyoza, some small cube cuts of steak on a skewer, pate on artisan crackers. Satisfied, he hands the plate over to Akechi.

“Do I call you my fiancé now or…” Akira tries and teases.

“It sounds so strange, honestly,” Akechi says. “But I suppose you are correct. I should get used to the term even though our engagement isn’t supposed to be very long.”

“So how do you feel about all this, Akechi?” Ryuji asks, without any tact. Akira could sense Ann glaring at him from across the table.

Akechi finishes chewing on his first bit of food, a hand hovering over his mouth with precision etiquette. “It was rather sudden when my father told me. But I suppose this is a necessary political move for the betterment of Shibuya and Yongen as well.”

“It’s very noble of you both,” Yusuke chimes in. “Even though this is purely a political union, on the bright side, you two do make quite the handsome couple.” The young artist forms his slender fingers into a rectangle and focuses Akira and Akechi together in his makeshift photo frame. He sees Akechi’s ears turn that surprisingly adorable shade of pink again. “Might I paint a portrait of the two of you on your wedding day?”

“Please, Yusuke,” Akira says. “You’re making my fiancé blush.”

Now Akechi’s ears are bright red and Akira smiles, quite proud of himself for the effort.

“You don’t have time to paint during their wedding, Yusuke,” Ryuji says, exasperated. “You’re participatin’ in it.”

“Oh,” Yusuke sighs. “That you’re right.”

“Maybe afterwards,” Akira says to cheer the artist up and he thinks it works because there’s a small smile on his lips.

They settle into light chatters, each one of his friends getting to know Akechi while Akira quietly absorbs the information. He’s quite cognizant of the unsettling fact that he knows just as little about Akechi as his friends do. It eventually dawns on him that they’re curiously surrounded singularly by _his_ friends which makes him question why Akechi hadn’t invited any of his own to such an event. The question lingers unspoken on his open mouth when he notices that the ballroom is quiet and still and only the light piano music is dancing in the atmosphere.

He turns in the direction of everyone else’s gaze and finds Shido standing up from his seat, his presence and posture alone commanding the entire ballroom’s attention. He has a microphone in hand.

“Thank you all for joining us here tonight in this joyous evening,” Shido announces. “Sakura-san and I are beyond thrilled that you are all here with us tonight to celebrate the engagement of our beloved sons.”

The silence in the ballroom shatters with an eruption of applause. Akira fights the urge to grimace because he knows they’re applauding Shido and his team for their accomplishment with the Shibuya and Yongen situations and not really for him and Akechi. Sneaking a glance at the young man beside him, the despondent way he’s looking down at his hands in his lap instead of at his father confirms that his assessment is probably right.

“I would like to take this moment to congratulate our sons,” Shido says. “For their undying support for both the Yongen District and the entirety of the Shibuya Sector.”

Another applause rouses from the audience, this time, all the onlookers eyes are actually fixated on Akira and Akechi. Akira puts on a soft smile and nods around the ballroom at his friends and all the other guests who he doesn’t know. He can sense Akechi doing the same in his peripheral.

“And please, let’s not forget the generosity and kindness from the Okumura family for your continuous contribution and support in our efforts to ensure the brightest future possible for our beloved home.”

Haru’s father stands up from his seat at the main table and bows as the gusts all clap in his honor. Once the ballroom settles down enough that the light jazz piano is audible again, Sojiro takes his turn to stand up with his glass of scotch in hand. Shido passes him the microphone and he directs his gaze in Akira’s direction.

“Thank you, both,” Sojiro says. “Shido-san has covered most of the basics. So I would just like to raise a glass to Akira and Akechi-kun for their selflessness.” He lifts his glass into the air, towards Akira’s table. “May the two of you find happiness in each other.”

It’s a simple statement. But the words create an uncomfortable lump at the base of Akira's throat. He looks from his father, to his table of friends, and finally to Akechi beside him, his future husband. In some ways, Akira finds this all too humorous, that this promised bright future ahead for Yongen and Shibuya begins with their unclear future together.


	2. The Dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m actually really surprised how well this story has been received T__T Thank you so much everyone for your encouragement! I keep making these chapters longer than I initially intend to but oh well... Also, I guess it might be good to point out that I imagine that Akira loss his parents around the age of 15 and Sojiro adopted him pretty quickly afterwards. He’s about 23 now so he’s been with papa Sojiro for a good number of years.
> 
> Also, a huuuuge thank you to menthechocolat for beta reading for me! You are amazing <3

Akira pushes open the window of his bedroom to let in the crisp, early evening air which smells like gradually fading summer. He takes a quick survey around and wonders.

The room that Sojiro has given him definitely has much more real estate than he really needs. It’s still slightly smaller than Futaba’s room in comparison but Akira can’t complain. He doesn’t have mountains of plastic collectables and electronic parts to find hiding places for. Everything he owns is relatively organized either on his bedside table, his computer desk, or his somewhat lonely shelf of books, video games, nicknacks, and keepsakes that’s somehow still large enough to fit it all. Even the amount of clothes and shoes that he owns can’t fill up the closet, leaving much of it unoccupied. Maybe, Akira thinks, some of the empty space will finally be put to good use once he starts sharing his bedroom for the first time in his life.

Reasons behind the decision for Akechi to eventually move into the Sakura’s residence after their wedding rather than having Akira move into the Shido estate is… interesting, to say the least. The representatives from Shido’s administration explained that the arrangement is ultimately for Akechi’s privacy and personal safety. While Shido’s estate is just shy of Shibuya’s border where the population is dense, Sojiro’s home is tucked away in a secluded suburban area in Yongen where only a few families occupy the area. Less people, less paparazzi, was how they phrased it. After all, his fiancé is somewhat of a celebrity. Akira thinks it’s still a little strange since he’s almost certain that Shido has more security personnel at his disposal than his father does. Regardless, neither he nor his father and sister have any reservations with Akechi moving in.

He tries to imagine what kind of personal belongings Akechi will introduce to this room which has been—for the last eight years—entirely his. Will he need to move his computer desk to make room for Akechi’s? There’s certainly enough space for a second computer if need be. Does his shelf need reorganizing? Perhaps they’ll just get another set of shelves altogether. Or will Akechi want to just move his own in? How much fuller will his closet be with the addition of Akechi’s wardrobe? Akira really tries to imagine his possessions mixed amongst Akechi’s. Try as he may, Akira evidently fails. 

Giving up, Akira turns his attention to his bed, the one thing he’s been trying to avoid as he ponders about the events soon to come. His bed is a king size, generously spacious for a mid-twenty-year-old bachelor but just big enough to be comfortable for a married couple. Heat rises to his face and he shallows, hard, feeling the base of his stomach twist in guilt because he has no trouble imagining Akechi snuggled comfortably between the sheets in probably, really adorable pajamas.

With a frustrated sigh, he reaches into his pocket for his phone and taps the screen to pull up his latest IM log with Akechi. They had exchanged contact information on their first meeting but ever since, Akira’s phone has shown more notifications from his father than from his fiancé. As he scrolls through the entire log with just a few flicks of his thumb, he can see that it consists of sparsely sprinkled small talk. Most of which had been initiated by Akira to coax a decent conversation out of Akechi. He doesn’t quite understand why Akechi is incredibly eloquent in person but so vague in his messages. Just when Akira was beginning to fear that Akechi really has no interest in him and that he’s walking into an empty marriage, Akechi recently entertained the possibility of them visiting Roppongi when wintertime comes arounds to see the annual Christmas decorations. Akira’s heart had glowed with optimism but that was three days ago.

They haven’t seen each other since their scheduled appearance at the Ritz Carlton a week and a half ago. Now, standing in his room alone, looking at Akechi’s name on his phone, Akira decides that a week and a half is too long a time to go without seeing the man he’s about to get married to. A long inhale gives him enough courage to open up the keyboard on the screen and start typing.

 **AKIRA** : Hey, what are you doing tonight?

Before he lets himself agonize over whether the message is too simple or too direct, he slips the phone back into his pocket and figures he might as well go see what Morgana and Futaba are up to while he waits.

\- - -

An unexpected buzz from his phone pulls Akechi’s attention away from his laptop. He reaches for the device on his bedside table and raises a curious eyebrow at the notification on his screen.

 **KURUSU** : Hey, what are you doing tonight?

Akechi stares at the innocent question and the contact name above it. Funny enough, he has just finished reading the latest news articles reporting on his engagement with the composer of said message. The contrast in the way different news outlets depict the arrangement humors him in a way. Political news sites focus on the prospective economic outcomes for both Shibuya and Yongen from their marriage as if it’s a peace treaty between two nations long locked in a cold war. Popular culture media, on the other hand, report on how handsome they look together and attempt to make the idiotic connections, comparing their zodiac signs amongst some of the most ridiculous things he’s read. And since they haven’t been photographed together in public, the internet has taken it upon itself to manipulate independent photos of them together which makes Akechi snort.

Kurusu surely is keen on striking conversations, he thinks. He had given the man his mobile contact out of necessity. He figures that eventually they will have to communicate remotely. Their phone conversations aren’t long. Most of their conversations consist of Kurusu asking him about his day, asking about his job, asking whether he’s eaten or not for some reason. Mundane things that serve no meaning or purpose. But he definitely notices that Kurusu’s name pops up on his phone screen more so than anyone else on his contact list. Kurusu even wins against Sae Niijima and that’s something he’s not quite used to. He can’t understand why he’s is so adamant on treating him like a legitimate boyfriend—fiancé—or whatever. It has crossed his mind that the other young man is simply trying to make the best of the situation that they’re in. Logic tells him that if he’s going to be forced to live with Kurusu for the rest of his life, he might as well not be an asshole to him. With that last thought, Akechi pulls up the keyboard on his phone. 

**AKECHI** : Nothing extraordinary. Just catching up with the news.

He tosses his phone onto his comforter and returns to his laptop, trying to find the paragraph where he left off. Three minutes into the article, his phone buzzes again.

 **KURUSU** : Are you hungry? Do you want to go grab dinner with me tonight?

Oh. So that’s what his prelude was leading up to. Judging from the haste in his response, Kurusu must be eager to see him…

The idea of it makes Akechi’s stomach tingle, flattering and frustrating both at once. As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, the arranged marriage itself doesn’t vex him; it’s the fact that of all the suitable young men from powerful families, his father has chosen to give him to the adoptee from a no-name bloodline. Yet, he can’t deny the hideous truth that he’s technically a bastard—an Akechi and not a Shido. What’s worse is the undeniable fact that, aside from Kurusu’s lineage, Akechi struggles to admit that his future husband is actually, incredibly… perfect.

On the day they met, he’s amazed how soft features can make up such an handsome face. And how a mop of messy black hair can be so adorable is beyond his comprehension. Kurusu even has the charisma and intellect to complete the attractive ensemble to prove he’s not just all looks. 

Akechi has considered that if he had been born Akira Sakura, his attitude towards their arranged marriage would be quite different. Still, why in the hell did Akira Kurusu have to be just his type?

It’s been a week and a half since their debut at the Ritz Carlton and Akechi catches himself thinking about that attractive smile every day after that night. In truth, he’s only been holding back on the messages out of pure pride. But he’s painfully cognizant of how childish he’s being and Sae, one of his only close friends, reinforces it every time they touch on the topic.

“My sister is close friends with him,” Sae had said during one of their usual coffee outings.

“Yes, and your point?” was Akechi’s bland response.

Sae had given him an exhausted look in response before answering. “I think you’re letting something as outdated as heritage get in the way of a potentially very good thing. He’s not high born. So what? If you can look past that, he’s everything that you’ve always wanted and what your father wouldn’t let you have. And now that your father has practically dumped a happy future ahead onto your lap, you’re refusing to welcome him with open arms?”

He didn’t have a good response then. He still doesn’t have an excuse now. But there’s truth to Sae’s words that he’s stubbornly denying. Despite himself, the thought of a legitimate, romantic relationship with someone like Kurusu is enticing. And if he’s being completely honest, it’s exactly what he’s always wanted. 

With a heavy sigh, Akechi pulls up the keyboard on his phone again.

 **AKECHI** : Dinner sounds good. Do you have someplace in mind?

The next message pops up in less time than the last.

 **KURUSU** : There’s an Italian place near Inokashira Park that I’ve been wanting to try. Maybe we can go on a walk at the park afterwards too?

Akechi shakes his head but he still finds himself smiling at the eager words on his screen. 

**AKECHI** : That sounds delightful.

 **KURUSU** : Great! I’ll have our driver come to pick you up in about 30 mins?

Akechi sits on the invitation for a moment when he hears his father’s voice echoing in the hallway, speaking in his loud, slightly irritated tone with whichever unfortunate official is on the other end of the line. It gives him a good idea.

 **AKECHI** : Actually, I’ll have our driver come to you instead. The traffic flow in your direction is much less congested.

With that, he steps out of his bedroom and makes his way towards his father’s office, seeing light pouring out from the gap at the bottom of the large door. He takes in a deep breath before speaking.

“Father,” Akechi treads carefully after giving the office door a couple of light knocks.

“What is it?” His father’s response is rather neutral and Akechi sighs in relief. He’s probably already cooled down from whoever he had just spoken to strongly over the phone. Opening the door and stepping inside, he finds his father busy typing away at his computer without looking up once at his visitor.

“May I borrow Kiguchi-san for a couple of hours tonight?”

“Where do you intend on going?” he replies monotonously, eyes are still glued to the glowing screen.

“A restaurant near Inokashira Park with Kurusu-kun. He invited me out to dinner tonight.”

This finally garners a reaction from his father. Intrigued, the older man pulls away from the keyboard and focuses his gaze on his son.

“It seems that you’re doing a good job with this arrangement so far. How is your investigation into Sakura and that cognitive world of his?”

The question hits Akechi like ice cold water. It’s not that he’s completely forgotten about the responsibility that his father had bestow upon him with the marriage. Mentally, Akechi kicks himself for being so preoccupied with thoughts of Kurusu that he forgot the almost certain likelihood of his father bringing up the topic at the mention of anything relating to Yongen.

He swallows the nervous lump in his throat and puts on the determined face he saves for the cameras, “There isn’t anything notable yet. But I’m certain I’ll have more information after I’ve moved to Yongen, Father. It’ll be much easier to look into Sakura-san’s cognition once I’m living close to him.” 

“I suppose that’s true,” his father considers his words for a moment. “Alright. You can have Kiguchi chauffeur the two of you tonight. I look forward to your next report when the logistics are complete.” With that, he’s already turning back to his work.

Akechi feels conflicted between swelling with pride at the small praise and fighting the urge to pull a furrowed face at how short lived the moment was.

“Thank you, father,” he says instead.

His gratitude earns him a hum of wordless acknowledgement and Akechi takes it as an indication to take his leave. As he walks back to his room to get ready, he checks his phone, almost forgetting that he hadn’t waited for Kurusu’s response. Surely enough, there’s a notification greeting him the moment he turns on his screen.

 **KURUSU** : Okay. I’m excited to see you again.

Heat flushes to his cheeks at the eagerness in Kurusu’s message. He chooses not to reply and leaves his phone on his bed while he gets ready. They’ll be seeing each other in about half an hour anyways, Akechi reasons. Once he’s satisfied that his teeth are clean, his hair is fixed, and his outfit is comfortable enough, he climbs downstairs to look for Izumi Kiguchi.

Akechi finds the middle-aged driver organizing files in his room, probably documenting plans for his father’s routes to his next list of meetings and public appearances. Akechi makes a couple of light taps on his open door, causing the driver to look up from his work.

“Ah, Goro-kun,” Kiguchi greets him with a warm smile. “What brings you here tonight?”

“Good evening,” Akechi replies. Of all of his father’s employees, he has to admit that Kiguchi is probably his favorite. While the man finds strange enjoyment from his lame comedic endeavors, he’s always treated Akechi with respect and acknowledgement that most of the adults in his life never bothered to give a mere child. “May I trouble you with chauffeuring me tonight, Kiguchi-san?”

“It’ll be no trouble at all. Nothing I can’t do for the mini-boss of the house. Where do you need me to take you tonight?”

Akechi rolls his eyes, not particularly found of being referred to as “mini” anything. “I’m heading to an Italian restaurant near Inokashira Park. I’m also going to spend some time at the park afterwards if you don’t mind hanging out in the area for a little bit.”

“Inokashira Park, huh? Are you ready to leave now?”

“Yes,” Akechi nods slowly. Sensing his hesitation, Kiguchi cocks his head to the side in question. He takes a breath before disclosing the rest of his evening plans. “Also… Can we stop by Sakura-san’s residence first in Yongen?”

Confusion fills Kiguchi’s eye initially but Akechi can see his expression soften into a knowing smile as the realization hits him. “Ah, you’re going out on a romantic date tonight with your fiancé.”

“That’s…it’s not really a da—,” Akechi struggles. “It’s just dinner.”

Kiguchi’s chuckle sounds a lot like teasing as he cleans up his work scattered on the table and grabs the keys from the drawer beneath it. “Come on then. Let’s not hold up your sweetheart any longer.”

Ignoring the comment, Akechi follows him to the garages and slides into the passenger seat of the Bentley Mulsanne. He buckles up while Kiguchi does the same and warms up the engine. He sends Kurusu another text to let him know that they’ll be at his place soon then pockets his phone. As they pull out of the driveway and towards the city, Akechi watches the street lights slowly illuminate in accordance with their programmed time intervals scheduled for when the sun makes it’s exit to welcome the evening sky. It certainly is a nice night to be out, he admits.

“So you’re getting along well with Kurusu-kun?” Kiguchi asks casually.

“We’re cordial,” Akechi says. “It has literally only been a couple of weeks since we met.”

“Even still, you two seem to be making the effort to get to know each other. As far as arranged marriages go, you seem to be adapting just fine.”

Akechi furrows his brows in guilt. Technically, Kurusu has been the one initiating everything. He’s also the one that suggested the date tonight but Kiguchi doesn’t really need to know that little detail.

“I suppose we are,” Akechi says.

“Your wedding ceremony is still a whiles away. Two months from now, was it?”

Akechi nods.

“But, I guess in the grand scheme of things, it’s probably coming up quite quickly. Would it be too bold of me to ask if you two have had the chance to try each other out yet?”

Perplexed, Akechi blinks at him. “Beg pardon?”

“Ah, I mean, have you been two been intimate with each other at all? I know your father’s been against it for years but since this whole thing is kind of his idea I’m sure you’ve at least sampled the goods—”

“We haven’t done anything!” Akechi insists immediately, his entire face feels like it’s burning. “We haven’t had much time for privacy.” Which is a sort of half-lie but it sounds better than admitting that he has been stubbornly avoiding his husband-to-be due to pedigree.

Kiguchi chuckles and Akechi tries to find something of interest in the passing scenery outside the car window. Just when Akechi is sure that the driver has dropped the embarrassing topic, Kiguchi is speaking again. “You two aren’t waiting until after you’ve gotten married, are you? That’s kind of old fashioned, don’t you think?”

“No! We’re—I just haven’t,” Akashi stutters and stops himself with an inward sigh. “Kiguchi-san, please. This whole arranged marriage is as old fashioned as things can get.”

“Apologies, Goro-kun,” the driver says through huffs of laughter. “I was only teasing. But even if it’s all just for political reasons, it’s good to see you having a friend.”

The word “friend” stuns Akechi but he disregards the weird tickle in his abdomen and continues his search for something of interest beyond the moving vehicle. They make it the rest of the way to the Sakura residence in relative peace with Kiguchi settling on inquiring about his work instead.

Once the car is parked, Akechi asks Kiguchi to stay in the vehicle while he fetches Kurusu. His muscles feel tense and heavy on his trek up the wooden path, as if remembering the first time he climbed the slight incline towards the large house with his father, not knowing what to expect from their first meeting. He rings the bell and waits a good couple of minutes before the door opens and his windpipe immediately catches mid breathe.

It’s a slightly older woman who greets him at the door. Akechi lets out a heavy sigh. He had expected Sakura or Kurusu to open to door. However, this elder woman must be their housekeeper who he doesn’t remember meeting on his first visit.

“Good evening,” she greets him, her smile warm and welcoming.

“Good evening, ma’am,” Akechi returns. “Sorry to disturb you tonight.”

“You must be Akechi-kun. You’re here for Akira-kun right?” She asks and he nods in reply. With a knowing smile, she turns back inside the house and calls towards the stairs. “Akira-kun! Akechi-kun is here for you. Come downstairs, please.”

“Thank you,” Akechi says.

“He should be down soon. Would you like to come inside?”

He declines her politely and waits at the open door where the housekeeper leaves him. Not too long after she retreats into the house, he hears rushing footsteps from upstairs. Akechi peers around the entrance and discovers a finely dressed Kurusu cladded in a plain, cream colored v-neck shirt, a slick black jacket, high quality slacks, and stylish shoes. A pair of black rimmed glasses are sitting in front of his pretty eyes and it takes substantial will power for Akechi to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep from cursing out loud.

“Hey,” Kurusu says to him with that irritatingly handsome smile. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“It’s quite alright,” Akechi replies back as pleasantly as he would during live interviews but strangely, in that moment, it doesn’t feel like acting. He gestures for Kurusu to follow him out to the humming foreign car sitting on his foster father’s property. Akechi walks with a strategic half-step in front of Kurusu, pointing him in reaching distance. He wonders if the other man will be bold enough to pull another hand-on-the-back stunt like he did at the dinner party. When he doesn’t take the bait, Akechi actually finds himself feeling slight disappointment. As they reach the car, Kiguchi is readily holding the backseat door open. “After you,” Akechi says.

Obediently, Kurusu slides into the car first, Akechi follows, and they buckle in. It’s terribly difficult not to notice that Kurusu is sitting right in the center seat instead of having the decency to sit at the other end of the car. He’s too close to him and it makes Akechi nervous. He smells too damn good, like the lightest hints of cologne that somehow matches his unique scent just right.

“So where to, love birds?” Kiguchi asks.

“Please don’t mind Kiguchi-san,” Akechi says immediately and pointedly at Kurusu.

A quiet chuckle escapes from Kurusu which precedes his reply to the driver’s question. “It’s a place called Sweet Basil pretty close to Inokashira Park.”

As Kiguchi searches for the restaurant in the car’s internal GPS system and gets an immediate hit, Akechi watches the evening darkness begin to settle comfortably over the glowing lights of the bustling city that is Shibuya. Growing up in Tokyo all his life, he wonders if he can get used to the quietness of the Yongen suburban areas.

The feeling of warm fingers closing over his knuckles catches Akechi by surprise and pulls him away from his thoughts. He finds Kurusu offering him a soft smile.

“Thank you for agreeing to come out with me tonight,” Kurusu says with an earnest gleam in his eyes.

“Of course,” Akechi returns with a nod. “Although, I will ask, why the sudden the invitation?”

“Hm? Do I need a reason to ask my fiancé out to dinner?”

Heat creeps up to his cheeks at the question. “No, I suppose not…”

“I’d figured, since we’re getting in married in about two months,” Kurusu says. “We can use this time to get to know each other more. There’s still a lot that I don’t know about you but I would very much like to.”

It’s a pragmatic answer, Akechi admits, and it comes with no astonishment. If his deductions are correct, then Kurusu is acting upon genuine human interest in learning more about someone he’s forced to be associated with. Any normal person would do the same, Akechi thinks.

“Well,” Akechi begins his reply, his eyes quickly shift towards Kiguchi then back to Kurusu. “Dinner was a good suggestion, then.”

“One of the best ways to get to know someone is over food,” Kurusu replies with a knowing nod.

Thankfully, Kurusu is vigilant enough to pick up on his silent indication that he’s not comfortable with engaging in that level of conversation with Kiguchi’s presence in the car. While he doesn’t press further, Kurusu’s hand is firmly gripped around his for the entire car ride.

The restaurant is a charmingly little parlor tucked within the dense hive of trendy fashion boutiques collected in Shibuya. After seeing the eatery’s logo, a minimalistic rendition of a single basil leaf, Akechi recognizes the place from one of his research sessions on the latest city crazes. He’s been meaning to ask Sae if she’ll be available to try it out. Unfortunately, his busy schedule never permitted him such, that is, until tonight.

Kiguchi exchanges a few words with the hostess who greets them upon their arrival and within minutes they are ushered to a table towards the back perfectly sized for two next to an endearing elderly couple. Kiguchi is also seated at a table conveniently close to him and Kurusu but just shy of earshot.

“Is this seat alright?” Kurusu asks him as they settle in.

“Yes, it’s perfect,” Akechi nods. “This place is quite charming.”

“I hope the food is just as good as the atmosphere looks,” Kurusu ponders, eyeing the menu that the hostess set on their table.

“I have high hopes that it will be. I’ve read about this place in a popular article once. People have raved about the food quality here. Especially their desserts. They’re known for their cassata alla siciliana, a kind of cheesecake. It’s been on my list to try it for a while now, actually.”

One of Kurusu’s eyebrow quirks up with interest at his last comment. “Guess I made a lucky choice tonight.” There’s a smirk on his face that makes Akechi hate himself for actually liking it. “I also didn’t realize you know Italian.”

“Knowing the name of a dessert hardly counts as knowing the language,“ Akechi scoffs at the teasing. He takes a moment to scan the menu but his curiosity takes precedence over his appetite. “You’re taking this arrangement fairly seriously, aren’t you?”

Kurusu looks up from his menu with an inquisitive, although almost confused, expression. “Shouldn’t we?” He asks, his tone genuinely curious. “If we’re going to be a part of each other lives from now on, I do want to get to know you. The kind of person you are, your interests, hobbies, dislikes.” It must be the bewildered look on Akechi’s face that urges Kurusu to continue with his explanation. “And I know we’ve pretty much been thrown into this situation. But… even if you don’t ever fall in love with me, I can live with you considering me a friend, too.”

The phrase “fall in love” catches him off guard, making his stomach flip like he’s just fallen off the top of Tokyo Tower and Akechi can only gape at him for a moment before he can formulate the most appropriate response. “‘Friend’ is an interesting term,” he says, deciding that the later term to be a safer conversation path.

“How so?” Kurusu asks, cocking his head to the side. “I keep calling you my fiancé due to technicalities because I don’t really know the best way to describe our relationship right now. What would you call us then?”

Akechi feels his lips parting, ready to reply, but the words seem to stop dead in their tracks. What would be call them? Fortune must be on his side because their waiter for the evening, a rather charming young man about their age, arrives at their table with a notepad and a cheery smile to take their orders (and buy Akechi some time to think). Akechi settles on a simple pesto and chicken pasta while Kurusu is keen on the original spaghetti, the house special. As the waiter retreats to the kitchen with their orders, Akechi is back to facing Kurusu’s question.

“Maybe, ‘friends’ is the right word to describe us then,” Akechi says which earns him a grin from Kurusu.

Soon, food is delivered to their table and both of their dishes smell heavenly. Akechi folds the cloth napkin neatly onto his lap and observes his plate, admiring the presentation. The first bite of food legitimizes all the positive feedback that Akechi has read about this restaurant and he can’t help but feel incredibly glad that they came here tonight for dinner. Akira also gives his food praise. There’s a bit of silence while they eat and Akechi can appreciate how comfortable it feels. Warm food filling his belly, the ambiance of a cozy, tucked away restaurant, and—dare he admit it—a rather handsome individual sharing the moment with him.

“This might be a bit of a personal question,” Kurusu eventually breaks their silence with a careful preamble and Akechi can tell he’s trying hard to find a balance between the shards of glass he thinks he needs to tip-toe around. He can’t quite determine the reason for Kurusu’s slight hesitation so he hums a sound of acknowledgment and shovels another bite of food into his mouth instead. Kurusu continues on. “What’s your group of friends like? I noticed that the list of participants in our wedding ceremony are only my friends. Ryuji’s set to be my best man and all the others you met at dinner are on that list too.”

Taking aback by his comment, Akechi can feel his insides starting to burn with embarrassment. It’s weird enough to hear Kurusu say “our” wedding, considering all the intimate connotations that are comprised in such a simple word. Akechi rakes his mind to find the best way to explain that, despite being a public figure, he’s actually been kind of a loner his entire life.

“This is quite embarrassing for me to admit,” Akechi says. “But I… don’t really have close friends around our age.” He catches the confused knot in Kurusu’s brows and continues. “My father’s occupation doesn’t really give me much freedom to just hang out with peers. I’m also rather restricted by how my father wants me to behave in public. So, you can imagine how annoying that would be for elementary and middle schoolers. At the start of high school, I became a public figure as a detective. Not only was I busy enough with school and work, I also started to wonder if people wanted to spend time with me because they genuinely enjoyed my company or if they had ulterior motives. In the end, I decided that it’s easier to just keep myself. Although, I do consider Sae Nijima, one of my colleagues, a good friend. I am also quite close Kiguchi-san in a way.”

A slight smile lingers on Kurusu’s lips at his added comment. Akechi almost wants to pat himself on the back because all of that came out better than he had expected.

“Yeah, I can tell you have a good relationship with him,” Kurusu agrees. “But I feel guilty if our entire wedding ceremony is going to be monopolized by my friends.”

“It’s actually quite alright,” Akechi insists. “I don’t mind at all.”

Even with encouragement, Akechi can see the pensive look on Kurusu’s face. 

“Maybe… we can all spend some time together,” Akechi offers, not really sure of the words spilling from his mouth. “As a group. That way, they won’t feel like strangers to me. We still have a couple of months before the ceremony. That should give me enough time to get to know everyone.”

Kurusu’s face immediately brightens at his offer and it feels like a ray of sunshine peering through the clouds. “Alright. That sounds like a good plan. I can set up something for when we’re all free.”

He’s almost surprised himself when he realizes his heart skipping a happy beat seeing Kurusu smile at something that he said.

“Ah,” Kurusu continues, remembering something. “That includes my sister, right? I can’t leave her out or else I’ll never hear the end of it.”

That has Akechi chuckling. “Of course. Your sister too. I mean, the three of us will be living under one roof. I don’t want to be on her bad side right off the bat.”

“Actually, that reminds me that I do need to show you my—well, our room eventually,” Kurusu says. 

“Yes…” Akechi says, he had almost forgotten about that part of the arrangement and is trying his damn hardest not to become flustered at the thought. His eyes are fixated on his dish as he speaks quietly, more to himself than Kurusu. “I suppose that would be necessary at some point. I’m still not quite sure of the details of when I’m suppose to be moving all of my belongings.”

As if able to sense his discomfort, Kurusu decides to steer their conversation onward. “But that’s a detail to worry about later. For now, I want to keep learning about you.” Kurusu reaches across the table to take a hold of Akechi’s hand. He looks up from his dinner in surprise to find Kurusu giving him another signature grin that makes him feel weak to his knees.

Akechi mentally kicks himself because if he actually falls for Kurusu, this will be just one more thing that his father will be right about and the thought of admitting it alone infuriates him. Still, Kurusu’s smile is one that’s too hard for him to resist and Akechi can’t hep but grin in reply. Perhaps this is the first time that his father has done something, albeit mostly unintentionally, that can potentially, truly make him happy. 

Their conversations stretch through dinner and into dessert where they savor a slice of cassata alla siciliana that Kurusu is persistent on sharing between the two of them because he’s complaining that he’s far too full but doesn’t want to leave this place without trying their famous cake.

Even though Kurusu mentioned that he wants know more about Akechi, the young detective is doing quite a bit of learning himself. Akechi learns that Kurusu has worked an abundance of odd jobs to get himself through university because he wouldn’t allow Sakura to pay a single yen for his education, citing that Sakura agreeing to legally adopt him even though he was well pass the juvenile age was enough for him. He can’t really imagine Kurusu wearing a work apron and putting together a flower arrangement but he can definitely picture him using that effortless charm of his to help the customers at the convenient store.

When the bill arrives, they have a short and playful argument over who gets to pay. Kurusu argues that this dinner was his idea and Akechi agrees to a surrender—with an unexpected promise that he’ll definitely cover their next date.

“Are you still up for a walk? It’s pretty early.” Kurusu suggests and watches as Kiguchi is conveniently finished paying for his fourth cup of coffee and small dessert platter the same time as they’re about to leave.

“That would be lovely, actually,” Akechi agrees. He watches for a moment as Kurusu holds out a hand for him. The physical intimacies are still strange to him but he takes Kurusu’s hand without further hesitation. Kurusu’s hand is strangely cold and dry but are slowly warming up against his. Their hands don’t leave each other even after they climb back into Kiguchi’s vehicle.

After a short ride to Inokashira park, the two of them meander along the winding path through the park, along the lake. He takes a sneak peak at Kurusu from his peripheral and notices that he’s staring off into space. He can feel Kurusu’s thumb running gently back and forth over his knuckles.

“Kurusu-kun,” Akechi says.

“Hm?” Kurusu hums, snapping out of his trance. “You can just call me by my name.”

“Ah… Akira-kun,” Akechi tries again, the familiar manner of addressing the other young man feels foreign on his tongue. “I’m sure I’ve mentioned this before but you are being quite… agreeable about this entire situation.”

“Agreeable?” Kurusu stops walking to turn fully to face him.

Hesitant to answer, Akechi swallows the nervous lump in his throat, trying his best to keep his composure. “Yes. Although you’ve already explained at the restaurant, why you’re going out of your way to spend time with me. But is that merely it? Is the reason why you’re so diligently trying to get to know me because you don’t want to be married to a stranger? You said that you won’t mind if I don’t ever fall in love with you.”

“Yes and no,” Kurusu replies. Confusion is so evident in Akechi’s expression that Kurusu continues on. “You’re right, I don’t want to be married to a stranger. But that’s not the only reason why I want to know you. Maybe this entire thing is coincident or fate, but ever since we met, I genuinely want to know you, Goro Akechi.”

Akechi’s eyes widen at Kurusu’s forwardness.

“You’re intelligent, you’re interesting, you’re engaging, not to mention you’re handsome as hell.” At his last comment, Kurusu’s lips quirk up just enough to remind Akechi how smug he can be. “I guess I just considered myself extremely lucky. Even if I’m getting married for a political reason, I somehow got matched with someone who turns out to be a person who I’m interested in. What I’m trying to say is, I think I hit the jackpot?”

Akechi doesn’t answer long enough that Kurusu must feel the need to continue explaining.

“I can’t and won’t force you to fall in love with me. But as it stands, I can see myself falling for you.”

Akechi bites down on his lower lip in thought, opting to gaze towards the gorgeous, glittering moonlight in the lake rather than at Kurusu’s equally beautiful face.

“I… don’t know,” Akechi says slowly. “I will admit that I find it easy to be attracted to you.”

He can’t very well tell Kurusu that the main reason why he’s resistant to allowing himself to give into a true relationship with him is because of his low birth, the very part of him that he can never change. But the more that he thinks about it, the more he loses his fight against the constant reminder that he is a bastard himself. Genetics don’t deny that he is, indeed, Masayoshi Shido’s son. Legal documents, however, highlight glaringly that he is an illegitimate child. Even so, he is, at least, half blood-related to someone of high birth. Kurusu is merely an adopted son from a no-name family who’s publicly recognized as part of a much more influential family.

“Would it be presumptuous of me to say that I might have a chance at stealing your heart after all?” Kurusu asks, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Akechi lets out a chuckle and the words are spilling out of him before he can stop himself. “If you keep this up, you might not have to seal it at all.”


	3. The Cameras

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks a million to menthechocolat for helping to beta this chapter :) You are amazing~
> 
> Some of the scenes in this chapter were my favorite to write so far. But again I ended up making the chapter so much longer than I originally anticipated ( ﾉ^.^)ﾉﾟ Enjoy everyone!

Responsibilities, obligations, and commitments are piling up and Akechi is starting to feel the need to just run and hide from it all.

Rarely is he fortunate enough to have a couple of free hours to himself. After reviewing his schedule, Akechi feels full of excitement seeing the reasonable size block in his calendar that isn’t colored in with appointments. Not one for idleness, he decides to pack up his climbing gear and head to his favorite indoor bouldering gym. He’s been training hard in order to graduate from a 7-Kyu climb to a 6-Kyu climb and now’s a good time as ever for a warm up.

A bicycle ride and setup session later, Akechi is heaving his body weight up the artificial rock structure. He takes in a deep, preparatory breath before reaching for the next blue plastic hold, scaling himself up higher and higher. He’s found that expending his energy through physical activities helps unload his mind when it’s heavy with stress and reverberating thoughts. With everything that has transpired in the last couple of weeks, this is just the remedy that he needs.

Work occupies much of his day while publicity events eat up the rest of his evening. When he’s not trapped at the office or scheduled for another studio appearance, Kurusu is the one requesting the remainder of his time. At least, Akechi admits, Kurusu has the courtesy to ask him whether or not he’s free or isn’t too enervated from his full calendar to spend a bit of time together. Tired as he might be, Akechi always finds himself agreeing to meet up with his arranged intended.

For most of their excursions, Kurusu plans a quiet night together at a local café or a trendy restaurant. Akechi can’t say he’s surprised at any of his choices since he agreed to send over his list of popular places to visit. What he is surprised about is the fact that Kurusu bothered to remember about said list which he specifically recalls mentioning as a fleeting comment. When he brings it up, Kurusu’s only answer is a casual shrug followed by a simple, “I try my best to listen you,” and Akechi can’t wipe the stupidly persistent smile off his face for a solid couple of minutes.

Akechi is painfully aware of how effortlessly their conversations flow. How they smoothly transition from one topic to another without sparing much time for any awkward silence. How a comment turns into a tangent and a tangent soon becomes a snide joke after that. How he thinks he’s being clever only for Kurusu to counter his comments with playful remarks that carry just the right amount of smugness that Akechi actually finds him adorable rather than annoying. 

He’s also very cognizant of how _physical_ Kurusu is. It has him constantly wondering if Kurusu is aware that all of his affectionate gestures are just plain paparazzi bait. Yet, Kurusu doesn’t seem to mind in the least. When Akechi brings it to his attention that increasing articles, digital and printed alike, have been surfacing with blurred, zoomed in photos of them at various locations togethers, the reply he receives is rather unexpected. 

“We’re engaged,” Kurusu says nonchalantly. “Pretty publicly, at that.”

Akechi only half-heartedly wants to object but he inwardly admits that Kurusu is ultimately right. Unlike the occasionally unveiled secret relationships between popular idols and celebrities, the public’s interest in their engagement seems more fueled by a desire for political insight rather than scandal.

Still, even the smallest of touches makes his stomach twist and tingle like he’s falling through the clouds. Kurusu really likes to lace his fingers between his and never misses his chance to do so when they’re together. More recently, Kurusu has taken a fancy to slinging his arm across his shoulders, holding him close and safe as they walk side by side. He’d be lying if he says he doesn’t enjoy it—how absolutely _possessive_ it feels. Even if the nation already knows of their political engagement, it’s as if Kurusu is set on demonstrating to the world that Akechi is his. Akechi finds that he doesn’t mind the thought. Being desired feels nice, after all.

On their most recent outings, Kurusu had chosen a sky lounge that he had almost forgotten was on his list. After their dinner plates had been cleared away, the two of them lingered on the terrace, enjoying the beautiful night which enveloped them in a light breeze, he remembers.

As Akechi leaned a little over the railing, gazing down at twinkling city lights, he felt Kurusu’s hands seat themselves comfortably on his hips, like they belong there. He remembers the exact moment when his heart stops, when he felt Kurusu’s chest fall flush against his back. There was the low rumble of Kurusu’s deep voice against the crook of his neck where the young researcher had snuggled his head into.

“You’re really amazing, you know that?”

Akechi remembers his own voice dying in his throat, the churning in his stomach intensifying. Then there’s the frightening moment when he thinks that Kurusu is shifting, leaning towards his face, too close to his face, too early because he’s not quite ready yet. And he panics and shifts away a little out of pure instinct and not distaste. But he never feels the anticipated pressure on his lips. He feels it on his temple instead. The tenderness leaves him stunned and unable to control the confusion crawling its way onto his face. Kurusu must have read him so easily because his response is a smile followed by, “It’s okay. I’ll keep waiting for you to fall for me.”

Always light and gentle. Soft. _Infuriating_.

When the night ends, and he’s retreating back into his room, he finds himself anxiously sneaking glances at his phone on his bedside table until the screen glows with a notification. Kurusu’s simple “goodnight” message. His night doesn’t feel complete until it arrives. But it’s in the quiet of his room where he occasionally hears heavy movements and angry late-night phone calls coming from his father’s office that makes him wonder how miserable his relationship with Kurusu will inevitable become once his father’s plans fall through.

Yongen has been the center of plots and schemes formulated by his father’s administration not long after Akechi had been introduced to his father’s political world. While Shibuya’s heavily populated sector comes complete with bustling commercial areas, ever growing and flourishing with new trendy entertainment staples, Yongen preserves its pristine suburban environment. Spacious streets lined with a mixture of traditional and modern family homes, all generously sized, and skies clear of tall skyscrapers. It’s a mouthwatering addition that is sure to satiate Shibuya’s appetite for growth. In his father’s mind, Akechi—well, his power, really—is Shibuya’s ticket to devouring Yongen down to its very last resource.

What was he going to tell Kurusu after they’re married?

_I’m being forced to marry you to get close to your foster father so that I can infiltrate his cognitive world via this sinister eyeball-like app on my phone that lets me transport my physical being into this other world that exists in people’s heads._

Yes, of course that’ll be perfect if he wants Kurusu to think he should be institutionalized.

_You know your mission. Complete this, and I’ll reconsider accepting you as a Shido._

Acceptance. Acknowledgement. It’s all he truly wants, and here he is, ready to claim his prize, agreeing to offer himself as the sacrifice of sorts.

_If you keep this up, you might not have to steal it at all._

What exactly was he thinking, allowing himself to admit to Kurusu that he even a chance at winning his heart? And is it even reasonable that he’s afraid he’ll lose Kurusu at all? Because now that he’s had a taste of how annoyingly attractive Kurusu truly is, in a manner that’s both physical and non-superficial, he can’t help but want more of him. 

He reaches for the next hold ahead of him but all he sees is Kurusu’s hand, outstretched and welcoming, reaching specifically for him, only him, Akechi thinks selfishly. But it’s torn away instantly, replaced with his father's menacing smile. There’s no hand reaching back for him this time, just a cold shoulder and an even colder smile.

For a frozen, split second, Akechi feels a tingle in his foot where he had expected a rigid plane. He feels weightless. Then he realizes that he’s falling—stomach churning until the safety rope connected to his harness is pulled taunt, suspending his body in mid-air, a good foot above the cushion mat on the floor.

“Akechi-san!” A female attendant immediately rushes over to him and checks his harness and safety gear. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” Akechi sighs, finally able to take a normal breath after that heart stopping moment. “I was being a little careless just now, that’s all.”

“Not to worry. It happens.” The attendant helps lower him down onto the mat completely until he’s able to stand up straight. Then she’s helping him take off the gear. Once she’s done, Akechi thanks her and heads over to his locker and pulls out his water bottle. He takes a couple of deep chugs, alleviating the dryness in his throat which also helps calm his shaking nerves.

Vibrations from his phone elicit a sigh from him and the young detective reluctantly reaches into his gym bag to pull out the device. It’s one of his father’s lead public relations coordinators, Megumi Ono.

“Hello?”

“Akechi-kun, I have great news for you!” Megumi replies immediately. “NHK just setup a meeting to have you and your fiancé appear on a television interview. We just finished the meeting today and they've offered to host a television engagement debut for you two. Isn’t this exciting?”

“It’s definitely sudden,” Akechi says, not really sure how to feel about his arranged marriage being publicly broadcasted.

“Not just that!” She continues and he can practically hear her bouncing up and down on the other end of the line. Every interview with a major television outlet seems like a victory for his father’s PR team. For such a large station as NHK to offer an exclusive interview with the two of them is surely being treated with celebration by the whole office right at this moment. “It’ll be a national news broadcast. This'll be the first official appearance for the two of you as couple and it’s incredibly anticipated. And since there’s been a lot of tabloid articles swimming about the web and gossip news stations already, it’ll be best to let a highly regarded station such as NHK have the first official scoop on your engagement. Your father is very excited about this opportunity and he’ll be speaking with Sakura-san to ensure that he and Kurusu-kun are on board with the interview, too.”

Akechi can feel the tingle in his bones with the thought of himself finally debuting to the entire nation as Kurusu’s husband-to-be. 

\- - -

“A television interview and photoshoots for NHK,” Akira repeats the young detective’s words as he stirs his cup of iced coffee by the straw. "Yeah, my dad just mentioned it to me, actually."

“I just wanted to make sure you're okay with it,” Akechi explains. “I assumed your father has already spoken to you but I'd like to confirm just between the two of us.”

He really wasn't too surprised when Sojiro brought it up during dinner the other night, figuring it was only a matter of time before he would have to step foot before the cameras. Futaba was a little more concerned, reminding Sojiro of his efforts to keep the two of them away from the press.

In the grand scheme of things, Akira doesn't find the interview to be such a bad thing. He looks straight into Akechi’s eyes with a pensive expression before giving him a shrug. “Sure. I guess it’ll be fun. I’m not really used to any publicity expect for charity events. My dad does his best to keep my sister and me out of the media.”

“You’re not really convincing me that you actually want to do it,” Akechi says, doubt written all over his face.

“No, I think it’ll be a fun thing for us to do together,” Akira insists. He reaches across the table to take the young detective’s hand in his. “Look, I know we’re supposed to be the symbol for the future of our cities so why not give them a show?”

“I suppose if you put it that way,” Akechi replies with his lips in a lopsided smile.

Akira had hoped that if he’s upfront with Akechi about his feelings and intents, absolute full disclosure, then he'll have a pretty good chance at winning Akechi over. After their dinner together a few weeks ago, Akira feels like he's gotten a little closer. He wonders how much it will take to completely bring down those walls that Akechi has fortified. He can still sense their prevailing presence when the two of them are together. Akechi lets him hold his hand but rarely initiates any physical contact in return. When he does, it’s hesitant and Akira wonders if he’s just shy. When it comes to meeting in person, it’s still Akira who suggests that they go out first. At least now, Akechi’s replies come much quicker and more frequent. Gone are the stretches of days in-between texts because now they have a conversation at least twice every day when they’re both not too busy with work.

Small steps, Akira thinks. It’s a little ironic though, that between the two of them, they’re taking everything relatively slow despite being scheduled to get married at soon as possible. When Akechi explained that he’s never really had friends, Akira can only imagine how that inexperience must extend to romantic relationships too. He doesn’t want to push it. He doesn’t want to rush Akechi into something he isn’t ready for because he’s not willing to mess this up, not when he’s finally found someone he’s willing to fight for.

\- - -

Akira isn’t sure what he was expecting when they arrive at the hotel’s private lounge that NHK has booked for their interview. Not accustomed to being crowded by spotlights, cameras, and microphone booms, Akira is squirming slightly in the large armchair that the news station employees had ushered him into. He glances over to Akechi seating next to him in an aesthetically identical armchair looking quite comfortable, flipping idly through his phone. He supposes that Akechi is used to this kind of environment, seeing how often Akechi gets booked for television and public appearances. Akira clears his throat with a shaky cough and plays with the fringes of his hair, probably ruining the stylist’s efforts spent on his appearance. It’s some attempt to distract himself while the crew mills about in preparation.

He doesn’t notice that Akechi can sense his uneasiness.

“Hey,” Akechi’s call to him is as soft as ever but it’s enough to elicit Akira’s full attention. “Are you alright?”

“O—oh, yeah,” Akira replies with a nod. “I’m just getting a bit of stage fright, I guess.” He laughs nervously. No point in hiding something so trivial from his fiancé. “I’m not used to all this.” He gestures with his chin at all the film equipment and busy crew members.

Akechi gives him a look with softened eyes and a small lopsided smile, which Akira interprets as empathy. “I used to be nervous about these interviews too. You’ll get used to them after the first couple, honestly.”

“You’re saying we’re going to be doing more than just this one?” Akira asks.

“Most likely. I don’t suspect the public will be satisfied with this being our only appearance. This arrangement has been the main topic on all the news sites I keep up with anyways. My father wanted something public to show how our regions are forming an alliance and he got his wish.” Akira senses a bit of acid in his last remark but decides to not comment on it. At least for now, considering the time and place. “Relax a bit. This interview is going to be a bit alarming if you look this petrified. We have to put on a good show for them, right?” The young detective gives him a playful smirk.

At that, Akira huffs a soft laugh and mirrors his smirk at Akechi echoing his words. “I’m trying to,” Akira insists.

“Good,” Akechi nods. “And that goes for the photoshoots that we’ve been scheduled to do later this week as well.”

“You think we’ll make it onto the cover of Tokyo Journal as Japan’s hottest new couple?” Akira jests, lolling his head to the side against the back of the armchair’s and peering at Akechi’s handsome face. His smile deepens when he sees how much more adorable Akechi is when he catches him blushing.

“Don’t be silly,” Akechi retorts, and pushes at his chin with two of his fingers, forcing him to face forward towards the cameras. Akira takes the rejection as a joke and playfully slaps Akechi’s hand away, chuckling.

“You two seem like an example of an arranged marriage that works,” It’s a women’s bemused voice that pulls his attention away from his fiancé. Immediately remembering their manners, Akira and Akechi both get up from their seats to great her. She’s professionally clad in a navy-blue suit, with perfectly groomed shoulder length hair. She might be in her mid-40s but has aged gracefully for the small screen with what he can tell is fairly little makeup. “Good evening. I’m Naoto Higa. I’ll be conducting your interview. Thank you so much for coming and I should also congratulate you on your upcoming marriage. Everyone’s been so excited to finally be able to hear from the two of you.”

“Thank you very much for having us,” Akechi replies smoothly with a bow which Akira mirrors. “It’s an honor for us to be here.”

Naoto takes her seat in the armchair across from the two of them just as a crew member hands her a folder before whispering something in her ear. Naoto gives an affirmative nod before turning her attention back to Akira and Akechi.

“We’ll be starting in just a couple of minutes. Are you two ready? I’m sure you’ve already been briefed by the staff about the general questions that Shido-san and Sakura-san have given us the green light for.”

Taking in another couple of deep breaths, Akira reminds himself that he can do this, that there’s nothing to be nervous about, and that Akechi is here with him, supporting him. Akira watches one of the crew members standing behind the cameras make a hand motion to indicate that filming has commenced. A formal introduction by Naoto proceeds the first series of questions concentrated on the two of them as individuals, what they do for a living, their education, all easy enough for Akira to answer comfortably. Then came the questions about their engagement and it’s bureaucratic significance which Akira has no problem leaving the answers up to Akechi.

“Now, politics aside, how do you two personally feel about this arranged marriage?” Naoto asks.

Maybe it’s the look in his eyes that has “SOS” written all over them or the way that his spine tenses up at the rather personal question. The next thing he knows is Akechi has reached across the space between their seats and place a hand on his wrist, squeezing gently, reassuringly, letting him know that it’s okay for Akira to rely on him, that he’s right there by his side.

“It’s definitely an honor,” Akechi answers smoothly without even missing a beat. “And for the two of us to be the bridge that will spearhead the symbiotic relationship between our beloved homes, there’s no greater opportunity to make a meaningful difference for the community.”

Naoto nods approvingly at his answer with a polite smile. Then she turns to Akira and asks, “How about you, Kurusu-san?” 

“Me?” Akira stumbles at first. There’s a lot that he can say but strategically, he chooses the most honest thing that he can think of. “Even though it’s arranged, we’re both fortunate enough to be matched with someone that we find interesting as well as attractive.” Akira can’t help but glance at Akechi, catching that adorable flustered look again. “I guess we just happen to hit the jackpot.”

“That’s wonderful to hear,” Naoto says, a cheerful laugh lingering in her eyes. “Political marriages are nothing new but to see the matches that do work out and sprout actual loving relationships is always a great thing to see.”

“It definitely helps to boost citizen moral as well,” Akechi adds.

“Of course! Of course,” Naoto agrees enthusiastically. “So, we have time for one last question. The planned date of your wedding ceremony is October 10th. Is there any significance to this date?”

“There’s really no significance,” Akechi explains. “It’s just a date that works out for the planning team and the most convenient date that we could book the venue. Although it is a rather easy date to remember. I’m sure neither us will have trouble remembering our anniversary.”

Naoto is giggling and Akira smirks at Akechi’s jest. But the final question makes him realize that their wedding is rapidly approaching.

\- - -

The only interest Akira has in attending the obligatory fundraiser gala promoted in conjunction between the Okamura company and Sakura PR team is the chance to have a nice dinner with both his friends and Akechi. Busy schedules prevent them from having big group events much to Akira’s disappointment since he wants to get Akechi more acquainted with his friends. Fortunately, tonight, Akechi is able to join him and his friends in silly conversations while their parents are busy entertaining affluent sponsors.

He’s walking back to their group’s table with a fresh drink in each hand. Akira smiles as Akechi laughs at something that Makoto and Ann are teasing Ryuji about. 

“You should give Sakamoto-san more credit though,” Akechi says after his chuckles have died down. “Constantly dying your hair is a full time commitment. It takes diligence to have those flawless roots.”

Ryuji suddenly appears sheepish at the comment, laughing shakily and rubbing the back of his neck as if unsure of how to reply.

“You know, Ryuji,” Akira chimes in upon his arrival and takes his seat next to Akechi. “You’ll definitely stand out more than we will at our own wedding, Mr. Best Man.”

“I’m not dying my hair back to black,” Ryuji insists. “Futaba isn’t dying her hair back either!”

“But it’s Futaba,” Akira says.

“What does that even mean?” Ryuji groans.

Akira leaves his best friend to stew in his thoughts and lays Akechi’s requested cup of ginger ale in front of him. Akechi thanks him with a smile and Akira reaches beneath the table drape to rest his hand on his fiancé’s knee before taking a swig of his own iced tea. There’s a jolt of vibrations and Akechi reaches into his pocket for his phone. Akira tries not to be be nosy. He focuses on Haru telling a story about her recent autumn vegetables which she plans on bringing over to his place so that Sojiro can make his famous curry. Akira’s mouth almost waters at the thought and he can see the exhilarated sparkles in Yusuke and Futaba’s eyes. He glances back at Akechi and sees him tucking his phone away with a small sigh.

“Everything good?” Akira asks, a whisper in Akechi’s ear.

His fiancé nods. “I have to meet up with Kiguchi-san for a little bit. Please carry on.”

“Okay,” Akira agrees with a nod as Akechi gets up from his seat and courteously excuses himself from the table. “Let me know if you need anything.” Akira can’t help but give Akechi’s hand one more squeeze before he lets the young detective go.

He doesn’t quite have the courage to point it out but there’s distress in Akechi’s eyes and that he simply can’t ignore.

\- - -

It’s been a while since Akechi left their table and Akira continues to feel uneasy. The earlier exuberant gala is starting to quiet down as patrons and delegates are beginning to leave the decorated hotel venue. Akira thinks about getting Futaba to their dad so that the three of them can find their driver and start heading home. Though, he can’t dismiss the look that Akechi had on his face as he ran off. Fleetingly, he wonders if Akechi has already left the gala but it isn’t like him to leave without saying goodbye.

“Where’d ya boyfriend go?” Ryuji asks, snapping Akira out of his worries.

“He said he needed to meet up with his family driver,” he explains.

“Did he already leave?” Ryuji gives him a confused look.

“I don’t think so,” Akira thinks out loud. “He would have said goodbye or something.”

“Maybe he’s just discussing logistics with the driver,” Makoto offers.

“Maybe. I should go look for him. Futaba, do you want me to go ahead and call Konae-san now to take you back?”

“I’m staying at Haru’s tonight, remember?” Futaba replies a little exasperation in her tune. Probably for having to repeat her plans to him multiple times.

“Ah, sorry,” Akira says sheepishly. “I forgot again.” His phone vibrates, calling for his attention. It’s his dad.

 **SOJIRO** : Staying out late with some coworkers after the fundraiser. Futaba is staying at Haru’s so feel free to have Konae-san take you home whenever you’re ready. I’ll be home later so don’t wait up.

Akira sends a quick affirmative reply before pocketing his phone and getting up from the table. He bids his friends goodnight and lets them know that he’s going to go look for Akechi. He keeps his tone light, even a little cheerful as to not elicit concern from his friends.

Only a limited area of the hotel is opened tonight to serve as the venue for the event so Akira isn’t too worried about not finding Akechi. The main exhibit hall and reception areas are easily ruled out with a quick once over. Then there’s the South Wing which serves as an extra socializing area. Heading down towards the end of the corridor, Akira stops in his tracks when he hears the familiar voice of the Shido household driver. He waits at the edge of the hallway, pressing his back flush again the decorative wall. From the level of their voice, he can safely peer around the edge to see Akechi’s back and tense shoulders as well as Kiguchi’s tired expression.

“I apologize for the unexpected change in plans, Goro-kun,” the chauffeur says somberly to Akechi. “Your father is asking me to assist him for the remainder of the evening while he entertains the other delegates. I’d rather you not be at home if your father is going to be drinking.”

Akira can practically hear Akechi’s finger bones cracking as he clenches his hands into fists.

“Hey, it’ll be fine,” Kiguchi continues. There’s something about the experienced gentleness in the elder gentleman’s voice that makes Akira think that this isn’t the first time that he’s tried to soothe Akechi’s worries about the issue at hand. “I’ll call a taxi for you to get to a hotel tonight, okay?”

There’s no answer from Akechi and it makes him feel more worried and nervous for his fiancé with each passing, silent second. Working up his courage, he takes a breath and steps into the hallway’s clearing.

“Sorry,” he decides to start with an apology. Akechi immediately turns to face him at the sound of his voice. His expression is bewildered, as if Akira is the last person he expected to see. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but my family’s driver can take Goro back to my house if you’re unavailable, Kiguchi-san.” Akira suggests and earns himself a surprised but admiring expression from the older man. He turns to Akechi. “That is, if you’re okay with that.”

“How much did you hear just now?” Akechi scowls instead of answering his offer.

Trying his hardest not to be taken aback by his reaction, Akira chooses to answer honestly. “I got worried when you hadn’t returned to the group so I went to look for you. I just got here but I heard enough to know that you shouldn’t be around your father when he’s drunk.”

Akechi lets out a small sigh before answering. “I suppose you would have learned about it sooner or later.”

“I think having Kurusu-kun take you back to Yongen would be a great idea,” Kiguchi urges him with a gentle smile that wrinkles the corners of his eyes. Akira wants to thank the man but holds his breath and waits for Akechi’s reaction instead.

To his relief, Akechi nods. “Thank you for the offer. If it isn’t too much trouble for you and your family.”

“Don’t worry about it. Futaba is having a sleepover at Haru’s tonight and my dad just let me know that he’ll be back late so don’t wait up for him. If anything, it works out pretty well.”

“Shall we get going, then? It’s getting rather late and I’m quite tired.”

“Of course,” Akira replies. “I’ll let our driver know.” He quickly fishes his phone out from his pocket and finds Shun Konae’s number. A quick explanatory text message later, Akira lets Akechi know that their driver will be ready to meet them in the rear valet lot in 15 minutes.

“Thank you, Kurusu-kun,” Kiguchi says to him with a warm handshake. “Take good care of Goro, alright? I have to go meet up with your father. Be good for your fiancé, Goro-kun.”

Akira tries his best to hold back a smile because he finds it adorable when Akechi blushes at the driver’s last comment before he walks briskly away, eyes and thumbs glued to the mobile phone in his hands. When Akechi turns back to him, Akira feels like he should pray to every god that he isn’t going to be chastised for poking his nose into something private.

“I wish you didn’t have to find out about my father this way,” Akechi says rather calmly.

“Something like that, I’d rather know than not,” Akira says cautiously. “I never want to see you hurt if I can do something about it.”

At that, Akechi looks at him with wide eyes, incredulous and confused, which makes Akira want to wrap him up in his arms. But he holds back, because it might be too much for the moment. He stretches his hand out instead. Timidly, Akechi takes him up on the silent offer and together they head towards the valet lot, not exchanging a single word.

\- - -

The drive back to his father’s estate is quiet.

As Konae pulls up into the driveway, Akechi finally breaks the still air between them.

“I’m going to let my father know just in case,” Akechi explains, pulling his phone from his pocket and tapping away at the screen. “He’ll at least be coherent in the morning to know where I am.”

“Yeah, of course,” Akira replies. He waits patiently until Akechi is done with his text message to lead him into his home, his heart suddenly pounding far noisier than it needs to.

Once inside, he notes how still the house is without his father, sister, and housekeeper but the timing of their absence couldn’t be anymore opportune. He absentmindedly locks the front door from muscle memory and heads towards the base of the spiral stairs leading to the upper floor, Akechi only a few steps behind him. “Do you want to freshen up a bit? You can borrow some of my clothes. We’re about the same size.”

“That would be lovely, actually,” Akechi agrees and follows him towards his bedroom.

“Here we are,” Akira says, holding the door to his room open for Akechi. The other young man steps into the room as Akira follows, closing the door.

“It’s so… neat,” Akechi says, observing.

“Kinda easy to keep things clean when you don’t have much stuff to begin with,” Akira shrugs. “Also, the room’s way too big for just me.”

“Maybe that’s the true motive behind our arranged marriage,” Akechi begins a jest. “You just need all this unused space filled up. Else, you’ll just be putting it to waste. Space is precious in Japan, after all.”

“I’m sure you’re entirely correct,” Akira says with a small laugh, feeling a touch of relief that Akechi seems to have lighten up a bit since the gala. “Let me grab you a towel so you can wash up.”

They’re about the same height and build so it’s easy for Akira to find spare clothes that fit him just fine. After he escorts Akechi into his walk-in bathroom, Akira makes his way into the guest shower downstairs and showers himself. He feels much better when the sweat and grease is washed away and he’s comfortable in his worn-down pajama bottoms and favorite black long sleeve that he’s worn holes into but refuses to throw away.

Akira returns to his room and can still hear the water running in his bathroom. With a heavy sigh, he lets himself fall face first into his bed.

What a week, he thinks. He never imagined that he would have to attend so many interviews and photoshoots and public appearances. Even more so, he never imagined how strenuous they actually are. He always thought that celebrities just sit there and talk or pose and it looks like the easiest job in the world. It’s the waiting, the preparation, and just mental state of being perpetually cognizant of everything he says and every movement that he makes that exhausts him. But throughout the whole fiasco, he’s extremely grateful to have Akechi by his side. 

He’s flipping idly through news articles on his phone, feeling a little odd to see articles about himself, when he hears the water turn off. On instinct, he straightens up against the headboard and tries to look somewhat more presentable in his pajamas. When Akechi steps into the room with damp hair sticking to his forehead, cheeks rosy from the warm shower, wearing his clothes, Akira almost chokes on his own saliva. He catches himself and wonders if he’s being far to forward with Akechi. They haven’t even kissed yet and he’s already practically inviting the other young man into his bed. He wasn’t sure if using the fact that they’re technically engaged a good idea either.

“Thank you for letting me borrow your clothes and the shower,” Akechi says.

“Of course,” Akira says. He pauses for a moment, carefully considering the situation even though he’s probably making it more awkward by letting the silence linger. “Do you want to take the bed? We have several guest futons that I can use for tonight.”

“I’d feel terrible for kicking you out of your own bed,” Akechi hesitates.

“I don’t mind,” Akira says with a shrug.

“No, it’s okay, really,” Akechi insists. “We… we’re engaged, right? I can sleep here with you if that’s okay.” There’s a sheepish smile on Akechi’s lips that makes Akira just want to reach up on pinch his pink cheeks right after wanting to ravish him with kisses.

“I mean,” Akira says. “Those are my same thoughts to be honest.” He scoots over to one side of the bed and taps the comforter. “You wanna rest up? We’ve had one hell of a day.”

“A hell of a week, really,” Akechi says and climbs into the bed. “I’m always exhausted after these appearances. I have a feeling that my father’s publicity team is only going to increase these events as the wedding gets closer.”

“Speaking of which,” Akira starts tentatively. “Are you ready for it at all? We have about four weeks until it’s official.”

He watches Akechi fiddle with the seams of his comforter before he speaks. “I suppose so.” The young detective goes quiet for a moment then he’s asking a question that catches him off guard. “Did you actually want to get married at all, generally speaking?”

Akira hums in thought, taking a moment to consider his answer carefully. “I’ve always thought of it as something that is nice if it happens but if it didn’t happen, I’d accept that too.”

“So, it was never a requirement for you. Why’s that?” Akechi’s eyes look intense as he asks his question. Akira wonders why he has such a sudden interest in his views on the matter.

“I guess…” Akira starts slowly, trying to find the right words. “I’ve never been with someone who I can confidently say that, ‘Yes! This is the person that I want to spend the rest of my life with.’ There was always hesitation from me, no matter how much I liked the person I was dating or how well we got along.” He can’t help the awkward chuckle that manages to escape from his lips. “Sorry if I’m not making any sense. It’s hard to explain.”

“No, it’s fine,” Akechi insists. “It sounds to me like you've never met someone that you truly wanted to spend the rest of your life with. That’s usually the reason people get married, anyways, right?”

“Yeah,” Akira nods. “I guess that’s what I meant. The thought of breaking up didn’t scare or worry me. I was okay if we said goodbye because we had a good time together but that was it.”

Akechi nods. “I suppose you don’t have to worry about feeling that way with our arrangement.”

“No, I would be devastated if I lost you.”

To him, the statement was a simply declaration of the truth. To Akechi, it was something much more perplexing. It’s Akechi’s widened eyes that urge him into trying to explain himself. “S-sorry! That was too forward.” Akira tries to massage the back of his burning neck to calm himself down. “I know we’ve barely known each other.” Akira says, braving himself, he doesn’t want to say it but he’s fighting the side of himself that wants to reveal everything about his feelings to Akechi. “I want you, Goro Akechi. I don’t care that this is an arranged marriage or not.”

His heart is pulsating at an accelerated rate and Akechi’s bewildered expression at his words isn’t helping to alleviate the pounding at all. It worsens when Akechi reaches for his hands and holds them firmly in his. Akechi is gazing downward towards the sheets when he speaks and Akira is somewhat grateful because his face is probably damn red.

“You’re more than I deserve,” Akechi says, barely a whisper, barely audible even in the tranquility of the empty house.

Akira intertwines their fingers, holding Akechi’s hands safely in his. He sighs inwardly, shaky and uneven, but it helps soothes the nervousness in his chest. “I’d really like to kiss you, if that’s okay?”

Finally, Akechi looks up at him, eyes still slightly owlish but he nods. “I’d like that.”

Relief washing over him, Akira smiles, and doesn’t hesitate. He moves his face closer to Akechi until their warm breaths can be felt on other’s chins. With one last inhale, Akira presses his lips over Akechi’s and all he can feel is softness and satisfaction and the tiniest noise that escapes from his fiancé that tingles his entire body.


	4. The Question

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my interpretation of Akechi’s understanding of the Metaverse. Even without a guide like Mona, Akechi is smart enough to figure most of it out for himself. However, it’s likely that he doesn’t know the intricacies of the Metaverse. I would think that he knows enough pick up that some people have “subconscious worlds” while others do not but he isn’t fully aware of why this is.
> 
> AND has anyone freaked out about the "Masquerade Party" event for the Persona 5 Animation?? (´,,•ω•,,)♡ I'm completely guilty of using their looks here as inspiration for the last part...
> 
> Please check it out here: https://twitter.com/Persona_Central/status/1057631920404582400

Kissing Akechi is as wonderful as Akira imagined it would be. Nipping lightly on that clever mouth sends cool shivers down his spine in the best possible way. Akechi’s soothing voice that he loves to hear is breathing soft moans down his throat, making Akira groan in lustful replies.

After one more soft peck, Akira shifts and grips onto the detective’s lean hips to heave Akechi up onto his lap. A startled noise escapes from Akechi at the manhandling and Akira pauses immediately.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, leaning back to search Akechi’s expression and body language for any signs of discomfort. “Is this too much?”

Akechi pauses for a moment as if considering something but eventually shakes his head. He wraps his arms around Akira’s shoulders and his legs around Akira’s waist. The gestures tickle Akira’s belly in the warmest way and fuels the blood in his groin. He tries his best not to get too excited when he notices the brush of Akechi’s hardened member against his abdomen through the thin fabrics of their pajama bottoms.

Damn, he wants so badly to get rid of their clothes and explore every inch of Akechi’s exposed skin. Wants to touch every inch of Akechi until he discovers all the sweet spots that’ll make his gorgeous fiancé gasp and tremble underneath his hands. Wants to uncover all flaws that Akechi thinks he might have just to tell him that he’s perfect. Wants to be _inside_ of him and truly make Akechi _his_.

But he holds back. He settles for these soft kisses and the warm closeness of their bodies. Not yet, he tells himself. Not just yet. He can have patience for Akechi. For now, he just wants to make him feel good in this moment, show him the intimacies of a loving relationship he might not have ever experienced before. There’s no need to rush things, Akira reminds himself like he’s in high school again. They have the rest of their lives together, after all.

He places a hand on Akechi’s cheek and the touch makes Akechi look up at him. His red eyes are hazy and hungry. God, does he loves those brilliant, red eyes.

“Let me know if you want to stop,” Akira says, running his thumb back and forth along Akechi’s cheekbone.

“Just a little longer,” Akechi says so quietly it’s almost a whisper. His hold around Akira’s shoulders tightens.

“Okay,” Akira replies with a smile and doesn’t hesitate to engage their lips again. He takes his hand away from Akechi’s face and places both palms back on those slender hips. Akira can feel his lower belly tingle when the soft, wet flick of Akechi’s tongue laps over his bottom lip. He returns the gesture with a devious lick of his own, earning him even more soft moans from Akechi, much to his delight.

His kisses lazily start to meander to the junction of Akechi’s neck. Akira nudges the supple skin with the tip of his nose and breathes him in. Akechi’s unique scent is there beneath Akira’s body soap, his shampoo, his clothes. It’s one hell of a turn on, the thought of Akechi being around him so much that he starts to smell like him too. It’s something primal and possessive, this desire that he has to make Akechi wholeheartedly his.

Akira sneaks his fingers beneath the old shirt he’s leant to Akechi for the night. He keeps the bare skin touches light and experimental. He feels Akechi tense up beneath his fingertips but otherwise, his arms are still wrapped around Akira’s shoulders and his fingernails scratch lightly across his spine.

When Akira shifts their positions until Akechi is on his back, Akechi lets out a small gasp that’s incredibly adorable. Bracing himself up by his elbows, Akira takes in the sight of his fiancé lying beneath him. Damp chestnut hair splaying across white pillows with a few wet locks clinging to his forehead. Flushing red cheeks and puffy, wet lips. He’s so damn beautiful and Akira’s heart swells because he’s just too damn lucky in the whole crazy turn of events.

“You’re so beautiful, Goro,” Akira says lowly, smoothing the stray hairs away from his fiancé’s forehead, honorifics and formalities lost in his lust.

There’s a blush that paints across Akechi’s nose and cheeks. Akira chuckles at how adorable Goro looks when he’s flustered and returns to kissing him again. The sweet taste of his fiancé's lips are only heightened by firm grip on his biceps, tugging him down, as if telling him to stay and give him _more_.

The sounds of the heavy front door opening causes Goro to startle under Akira’s hold. Akira smooths his thumb over the locks of soft chestnut hair above Goro’s ear to calm him.

“It’s okay,” Akira soothes, leaning back onto his elbow so that he can face Akechi again. “It’s just my dad.”

“We should probably go to bed then,” Goro suggests, tapping on Akira’s arm.

“It’s fine,” Akira chuckles. “He can’t hear us.” Despite his answer, he glances at the digital clock on his bedside table. It’s 2:32am. His dad wasn’t kidding about getting home late. “But you’re right. It’s getting late.”

Akira moves to settle into the bed beside Akechi and pulls the covers over the two of them. He gives Goro one more kiss on the lips for good measure before he bids him goodnight.

Akira had been afraid that tonight would have ended disastrously with what happened at the Gala. But as Goro settles into his embrace, he presses his lips to the crown of his fiancé's head and drifts off to sleep with a smile.

—

Akechi wakes up to an unfamiliar room but a familiar mop of messy black hair. Everything feels so soft, warm, safe… He blinks a few times and starts to see that those comforting feelings have reincarnated into the sleeping form of Akira Kurusu.

He’s shaken awake by the realization that he actually agreed to spend the night at Akira’s place—and he’s in Akira’s bed, wearing Akira’s clothes.

They kissed. Oh god, they _kissed_.

Akechi starts to remember everything. The feel of Akira’s rough hands running soft lines along his body. The sweet taste of Akira’s lips. The feel of Akira’s very obvious arousal pressing against his equally excited crotch. Suddenly, the blankets feel too hot and his cheeks are burning. His minds starts to wonder about all the things they didn’t do when they had been interrupted by the sound of Sojiro’s return. Realizing that none of these thoughts are helping his case of serious morning wood, Akechi shakes his head and reaches for his phone on the bedside table.

A late night message from his father greets him and his heart drops. He reads the curt text a couple of times and reminds himself that he still has his mission to complete. Akechi knows that it’s about time that he has to get up and leave Akira’s side. At least he tries to.

Something in him doesn’t allow him to want to leave Akira just yet. He looks so peaceful in his sleep. Relaxed and blissful, handsome and beautiful. Akechi wants to linger longer. He wants to bask in the comfort and warmth of the bed he’s sharing with this person who’s going to be his husband in a few short weeks. Politically arranged or not, the thought of sharing a lifelong vow with Akira now fills his heart with a very different set of tingling feelings.

For the briefest moment, Akechi allows himself to imagine a routine of waking up next to Akira every morning and feeling absolutely safe and desired. It’s a fleeting thought. One that Akechi immediately shoves away. This peaceful morning scene is not one that he can have forever, he reminds himself. This is just a glimpse into the life that he can have if he isn’t Masayoshi Shido’s illegitimate son with a purpose and a duty to Shibuya’s greed.

With his phone in hand, Akechi sneaks out of bed and into the hallway. To the left of Akira’s bedroom entrance, a path leads to pair of closed double doors which Akechi assumes leads to Sojiro’s room. He’s likely close enough to try the combinations. So he quietly tip-toes down to the bathroom which is located conveniently below the master bedroom he assumes belongs to Sojiro and locks the door behind him.

 _Please detect something._ Akechi begs into the cold, still air. _Please detect something!_

“Sojiro Sakura of Yongen, Sakura Manor,” Akechi says softly at his phone and nervously wakes for the unsettling red eyeball app on his phone to pulsate and reply back to him whether there’s a cognitive world awaiting his infiltration.

_No candidates found._

Akechi felt his heart sink and his limbs go numb. His body suddenly feels too heavy but his head feels too light.

From the very beginning, he had an inkling that a search into Sojiro’s cognition will bring up nothing. This power that he has… it doesn’t work for everyone. It’s infuriating how his father just can not—or _will not_ —understand it. His father has banked his entire arranged marriage on the deluded belief that Akechi will be able to get close enough to Sojiro to convince him to hand Yongen over to Shibuya on a pretty silver platter. But his father’s understanding of the cognitive world is subpar at best. What little knowledge Shido bothered to pay attention to when his team finally got their hands on Wakaba Ishiki’s research isn't enough for him to fully understand how the cognitive world actually works. And no matter how much Akechi tries to argue against the arranged marriage, reasoning again and again that it isn't going to work, his father will not budge on the matter. And now here he is. Pledged to marry the young man upstairs in a mere couple of weeks for the sole purpose of his father’s master plan that’s now derailing.

And where does this leave him, exactly?

“Yongen’s delegate, Sojiro Sakura of Sakura Manor,” Akechi tries again, desperate.

No candidates found.

Akechi takes in a deep breath. This is _not_ going to be how it ends, he decides. He’ll just have to find another way to accomplish what his father wants. There are always others he can try to infiltrate. Sojiro Sakura has an entire team government officials under him and while the pool of pickings is small, there has to be at least one amongst them suitable to play the part of the pawn. Someone who’s willing to hang Yongen over to Shibuya without hesitation.

Quietly, Akechi makes his way back upstairs, sparing the closed double doors of the master bedroom one last, petty glare. How dare Sojiro Sakura not have a palace for him to infiltrate and get his father’s dirty work over with? He knows that his anger is irrational but it doesn’t make failure taste any less bitter. Akechi walks silently into Akira’s room and slips back under the covers. He’s only halfway back in bed when his heart races as he sees Akira stir, turning to face him and slowly blinking awake.

“You okay?” Akira mumbles, voice groggy with slumber.

“Yes,” Akechi replies quietly. “Just had to use the bathroom. Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“S’okay,” Kurusu says with a yawn. “C’mere.”

Akechi allows himself to be pulled into Akira’s embrace until he’s settled comfortably against him, using his fiancé’s chest as a pillow. With the disappointment of finding out that his target doesn’t have a cognitive world to permeate, being in Akira’s arms actually feels incredibly soothing. Akira is threading his fingers through his hair with one hand and holding him firm around the waist with the other.

He feels so safe.

A wave of guilt overcomes him. Something feels wrong about him enjoying Akira’s embrace when he’s hiding so much from him. From the beginning, he wanted to keep things between them purely political, civil for the sake of civility and peace. But with Akira’s relentless chase, he can’t help but give into his advances because somewhere along the way, Akechi admits that _yes, dammit _he enjoys Akira’s company. He finds his presence soothing and it makes him feel desired in a way he’s never felt before. He wants Akira and Akira is already, logistically, his. But not entirely.__

____

____

He knows he’ll have to head back today but just for the moment, he can pretend that he and Akira can be a happy couple.

—

Akechi really enjoys Akira’s coffee. Although, the pleasant bitter aroma is ruined by the sour taste of guilt as he glances over at Sojiro Sakura reading the newspaper leisurely at the head of the dining table. It's almost unsettling how blissfully ignorant the older man is of all the schemes that involve him.

He graciously finishes the last bite of breakfast, simple buttered toast with a sunny-side-up egg, that Akira and Sojiro had insisted on making for him. “Thank you very much for the food, Sakura-san.”

“Oh, of course,” Sojiro says with a smile, looking up from his paper. “Would you like seconds?”

“No, thank you. I’m very full,” Akechi declines politely with a chuckle. The pang of guilt continuing to stir in his belly. “But everything was scrumptious.”

Akechi knows nothing about this man who his father is trying so desperately to ruin. Though, he wonders if the fate of the leader of Yongen would be the same where his father is concerned, regardless of who sits in that seat. The man who’s to be his father-in-law is a complete mystery to him. While Sojiro doesn't go out of his way to talk to Akechi whenever they're at the same functions, Akechi has never sense any malice from Sojiro either. He supposes it doesn’t matter, but he can’t help but ask.

“Sakura-san, have you lived in Yongen your entire life?”

“For the most part, yes, I have,” Sojiro answers. There’s a warm smile on his lip as he does. “My family has lived here for several generations. It took no more than a couple of years away for me to realize that there isn't going to be another home other than Yongen, for me at least." Akechi can't help but notice that quick glance that delegate sends in Akira's direction. Akira is too preoccupied with something on his phone to notice.

"Oh?" Akechi wonders. "Where were you during those years away, if you don't mind me asking."

"University," Sojiro answers after a swig of his coffee. "In Tokyo. It gave me a good taste into life in the city. But when I came back home, I realized how much more I started to appreciate the value of this place, how well preserved it is from the rest of Tokyo."

"You're very fond of this place." His comment feels more directed at himself than Sojiro.

"Yes, and I realized the necessity to continue maintaining this quiet little sector. It’s not swimming wealth, no, but with the people here, the community is welcoming and comfortable. It’s definitely not for everyone but at least for the people who chose to live here, they’ve developed a strong sense of kinship that’s hard to come by nowadays in the denser parts of Tokyo. I do hope that you’ll be able to find this place as somewhere you belong as well, Akechi-kun. If you and Akira choose to stay, that is.”

Sojiro’s words hit him like a piercing bullet to the chest. The fondness in Sojiro’s voice as he speaks of the very sector that Akechi has been tasked with stealing for his father only serves to make his heart ache.

_Somewhere you belong._

“That’s wonderful to hear,” Akechi says, despite the uncomfortable knot in his throat. He glances at Akira who’s quiet but is wearing a soft smile like a silent agreement to everything that his adoptive father says.

“This might be embarrassing for me to say,” Sojiro continues, massaging the back of his neck. “I was hesitant at first, about this arrangement.” He gestures between him and Akira. “But seeing how well you two have been getting along... It's... Ah." He pauses, as if to collect this thoughts before continuing. "It's great that this marriage is going to benefit both Shibuya and Yongen. But the fact that there's also a happy future for the two of you is even more important. In case you didn’t know, Akechi-kun, Akira talks about you constantly at home.”

“Dad…” Akira grumbles, cheeks flushing red.

“He’s a good kid,” Sojiro says, deliberately ignoring Akira’s embarrassment. “But if he ever gives you trouble, you can always let me know. He's a little hopeless at times so I’m counting on you to take care of him, Akechi-kun.”

Akechi lets out a light chuckle. “Of course. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Anyways,” Akira chimes in after clearing his throat. “Do you have to get back right away? Or do you have some time? I’d like to take show you around town for a bit.”

“I have some time,” Akechi nods and tries not to sound too eager. He realizes that he’d much rather spend more time with Akira then return home. “Kiguichi-san isn’t going to be here for another couple of hours or so.”

“Great,” Akira smiles.

They finish the remainder of their morning coffee and Akechi follows Akira out into the neighborhood, their hands together with their fingers intertwined.

Beyond the Sakura estate, the spacious but broken roads join various charming, old homes that are slowly rousing awake to chilly Sunday morning. What few autumn leaves left on the trees rustle above them as they follow the down path. Akechi can’t help but admire the quaintness as he takes in a large breath of the crisp air.

Akira takes him across a quiet park that’s still and tranquil in the early hours. There, they come across a few townsfolk who had the same idea of going on a morning stroll. Akira greets them with warm smiles and introduces Akechi with enthusiasm. As they make their way into the heart of town, Akira shows him various places that he enjoys visiting. The small trinkets shop that’s brimming with oddities, the bakery that smells heavenly with fresh goods, the tailor shop that’s decorated with old-fashion charm.

At every stop they make, there are people who Akira eagerly introduces Akechi to. The inhabitants of Yongen greet him with genuine smiles and kind words.

“Akira is very lucky to have you.”

“Ah, Akechi-kun! We’re looking forward to having you here.”

“It’s an honor to have you soon be a part of our community, Akechi-kun.”

“We’re so happy for the both of you! We wish you the best for your marriage.”

Their words are so kind and and fills him with guilt knowing that he’ll be handing Yongen over to his father's waiting hands, all wrapped up in a pretty bow, to feed Shibuya’s appetite. He can just imagine these same people, their smiles turn to tears, being force to vacate their homes to make way for the expansion of commercial buildings. Akechi is pulled out of his thoughts when Akira is tugging his hand and pulling him along to their next destination.

Akira reminds him of an excited teenagers as he takes them to a charming little sweets shop owned by an elderly couple. Akira insists on treating him to a couple of their famous rice cakes. One bite and he’s purchasing two boxes of them, one for Kiguchi-san and one for Sae-san because they need to try them. At the register, he hesitates at first, but he pays for a third box for his father.

“Speaking of Kiguchi-san, is he on his way to pick you up?” Akira asks as they make their way back to the Sakura estate. “Don’t want your father to get too worried.”

“Yes, he should be here soon, actually. I texted him as we were coming back.”

When the Shido family car arrives, Akira doesn’t miss a beat in being the doting fiancé that he is. He walks Akechi out to the driveway, gives him a light peck on the cheek before gently helping him climb into the passenger seat. The gestures brings a blush to Akechi’s cheeks and a smirk to Kiguchi’s lips.

The ride home is mostly quiet. Except, Kiguchi is insistent on teasing him about staying the night at his husband-to-be’s.

“You look a little tired, Goro-kun,” he driver notes.

“I’m fine,” Akechi replies, distracted by nothing outside the tinted car window. His mind is still whirling, frantically finding the right words for his father.

“Did Akira-kun take good care of you?”

He blushes despite himself but nods. “Yes, he was very attentive.”

He feels bad for being dismissive towards the driver, towards his friend. But he can’t bring himself to think of anything else aside from how he’s going to break the news to his father. How he’s going to update his father on the latest development in his mission—or lack thereof. At the very least, he’s made Kiguichi happy with the sweets that he’s bought him.

When they arrive back, Akechi makes his way into his room to collect himself first before he makes the trek to his father’s office. He takes the gift of sweets with him.

Once in front of the large doors, Akechi finally releases a sigh.

He really doesn’t understand why his father was so persistent that Sojiro has a palace when he doesn’t understand a single damn thing about the Other World. And after seeing Sojiro’s fondness for the little town, seeing the inhabitants attachment to it, seeing Akira’s love for it and its people, there’s something in the back of his mind that tells him that allowing his father to steal that all away will just be wrong.

He takes a deep breath and steps through the heavy doors.

“Hi Father,” he says a bit lamely, keeping the box of sweet rice cookies timidly hidden behind his back. “I bought you something from Yongen.”

Shido gives him an inquisitive look but nods as Akechi lays the box on his father’s desk.

“How did it go?” his father wastes no time asking, only sparing the gift a glance of acknowledgement.

Akechi shakes his head. “Sakura-san doesn’t have a cognitive world.”

“That’s impossible.” His father’s response is immediate. It’s dismissive and disbelieving. His eyes are filled with annoyance and trained on Akechi dangerously.

“Father, you have to understand,” Akechi stands his ground and insists. “I’ve been in his vicinity to do a thorough check and still the results turn up negative.”

“You do realize that without access to Sakura’s mind palace or whatever it is you call it, there is no possible way we can convince him to turn over Yongen to Shibuya.”

Akechi fights himself to keep an neutral expression and his temper in check. “You can’t enter a place without a door. The existence of an individual’s cognitive world is entirely up to that person. I can’t force it into existence.”

“Than you’re saying this entire plan was for naught?”

“Not entirely,” Akechi says, slightly challenging. “What if there’s someone else?”

“There is no one else,” his father dismisses with a wave of his hand.

“Not even someone from Sakura-san’s own administration?”

Cold eyes bore into his intimidatingly but Akechi refuses to falter.

“It doesn’t have to be Sakura Sojiro. As long as someone with the power to sign over Yongen has a manifested cognitive world, your plan will still work.”

Akechi holds his breath as his father holds his stare, contemplating, considering his words.

“You will find alternative targets," he finally says lowly. "I don’t care if it’s one or ten. Ensure that they are in a position with enough authority to be able to persuade Yongen’s relinquishment to Shibuya. The remainder of the plan stays as it is and you will go through with the wedding to secure access to Yongen.”

“Of course, Father.” He's not sure why the last comment hits him hard but tries not ignore it in favor of trying to leave the cold office.

Without wasting another second, Akechi takes his leave and lets himself breathe again only when the heavy door is closed behind him.

—

Dinner is a quiet affair. Akechi sits alone in the dinner hall with too much space and too little sound.

He wishes Akira were here.

He can’t believe that he wants Akira to be here. For someone he initially regarded as “adopted street trash,” Akira is now the only person Akechi wants to see in the entire world. He wants Akira who treats him with kindness and respect without asking for anything in return. He wants to hold his hand again and kiss him again. He just wants to _be with Akira_ and away from the emptiness of the Shido estate that mirrors his own heart.

It frustrates him that he wants Akira in the same instance that he knows that he really shouldn’t be indulging in an actual relationship with him. Everything about this is so wrong. Akira has given him nothing but happiness and Akechi is going to repay him by taking away the very home that he treasures.

His mind is reeling. He feels lightheaded while his limbs feel heavy and his insides feel sick. Before long, there are tears stinging his eyes and Akechi cries quietly at the dinner table, his food growing cold. He’s not sure how much time passes when his phone suddenly vibrates and illuminates with a message.

 **KURUSU** : I’m going to sleep now. Good night, Goro.

Akechi can’t help but huff out a laugh at how unbelievably sweet Akira is to him. He wipes the back of his palm across his wet cheeks and finishes his food, wishing he can have another goodnight kiss from Akira like before.

—

Their wedding ceremony is in a couple of weeks. The planning team, for some reason, decides that now is a good time to finally fuss about what the two of them should be wearing. Akechi meets up with Akira at the men's wear shop and the whole ordeal fills him with a strange mixture of giddiness and remorse. Seeing Akira brings him joy but the closer the day comes, the more anxious Akechi becomes.

Watching Akira browse the racks of luxury suits and tuxedos feels like a treat he shouldn’t be privy to. He watches Akira's handsome grin as his fiancé thanks the gentleman helping him pulls out another suggestion to try on. The worker eventually leaves them in the private room that's booked just for them. Akechi continues to watch Akira study the suit, running his fingers along the seams. It takes Akira three tries calling out his name before Akechi registers that Akira is talking to him.

“What’s got you spacing out?” Akira asks with an amused smile.

“Ah, sorry,” Akechi replies, shaking his negative thoughts away. “Are you going with that one then?” He gestures at the suit that Akira just carefully laid on the ottoman. It's a deep crimson color, with a white shirt and black vest for accents. It's slim fitting, sexy. Akechi has to swallow the dryness away from his throat as he watches Akira unbutton the shirt he's currently wearing to try on the suit.

“Yeah, I like the simplicity of the design. The color is unique.” He takes off his shirt completely, showing off a wall of pale skin and hangs it on one of the hooks on the walls. He starts undoing his pants next and Akechi turns his attention to the wall of suits instead. “Have you decided on yours yet?”

“I actually prefer the white one from earlier,” Akechi muses, turning his gaze back to the snow colored suit that he left on the chair. This whole thing is pointless, he thinks, but he might as well play along. He really does like the white and the gold trimmings are a plus.

“I personally think you should get that one. White looks great on you.”

Akechi flushes before softening into a smile. “I’m glad you think so.” After Akira is done zipping up the pants and starts to slip on the dress shirt, Akechi can't resist walking up to him and helping Akira with the buttons. “You should definitely stick with this one. It suits you.” Akechi doesn't make eye contact, but he enjoys every second of how intimate it feels to do something as simple as helping Akira put on a shirt.

“You think the stylists will like the contrast between us?” Akira asks, reaching up and brushing a lock of hair out of Akechi's eyes with his fingertips.

“I’m sure they’ll love it actually,” Akechi says with a hint of a sigh. He finishes the last button at Akira's neck. 

Akira steps closer to Akechi and places both hands on the young detective’s hips. In an instant, he's yanked forward until their chests are flush against each other.

“Akira,” Akechi warns but without any actual bite to his words.

“Just one, real quick,” Akira says with a mischievous grin and quickly presses a light kiss to Akechi’s lips, making him blush hard. “C’mon let’s finish up and grab some lunch. I didn't eat breakfast and I'm starving.”

Akechi nods. They thank the shop keepers for their assistance and make their way back into Konae-san’s waiting car. Akira chooses a quiet little diner known for their signature tricolor sandwiches. It’s just chicken cutlet, egg, ham, and cucumber but it’s certainty the presentation that catches the eyes and draws in the crowds. Akechi chews on a bite of his sandwich and wonders.

Akira is a social researcher. He might understand better than most people where Akechi is coming from if he actually tries and asks about... As much as he wants to fight it, there’s a part of him that wants to tell Akira about the powers that he has, the ability to travel the places unexplainable. His chest is full to bursting because he just wants to hiding things. He wants to tell Akira everything.

“Akira,” he begins. “Do you believe in things that can’t really be explained by modern science or technology?” He isn’t quite sure he knows where he’s going with this. His heart is pumping a million beats per second but he can’t stop the words from spilling now that he's broken the seal.

“What do you mean?” Akira asks. “Like… ghosts?”

“More like, other worlds.”

Akira gives him an hardened look. He notices his eyebrows are furrowed in a way that suggests that Akira is actually considering him seriously. There’s a silent hint in Akira's expression that Akechi can’t deny. He knows that look too well from all the times he's spent in the interrogation room. He knows that that's the look of someone who knows more than they're letting on. It’s the look of someone who already knows what he’s talking about but is feigning curiosity. He’s not sure if he should feel relieved or worried. But he continues.

“A world beyond the physical. Like a manifested cognition.”


End file.
